Wounded
by Charan-Amaya
Summary: Wounded and alone in the woods Vincent lies there close to death. Praying that there's someone to save him... He knows that if no one comes he will die. And with hope gone a blonde comes on a motorcycle... No own FFVII TBC in sequel!
1. Injuries Unknown

**Wounded**

_**Chapter One:**_

**Injuries Unknown**

If I am wounded

Alone and Lost

My final breath draws nearer

Please don't save me

Don't come near

I am a wounded thing

Worthless, unneeded

Do not help

Do not come to me

Please, I beg of you

I need you to back away

To stay away

Or I fear for your life

Please I beg, don't come near

I am a monster, a thing

A creature not worth living

Keep away with your kind touch

Your words that seem to be so kind

And yet so cruel

Stay away

I am a wounded creature

My heart

Body

Mind

And Soul

All of it taken under your care

As my mind races, trying to escape

Please leave me

Leave me wounded

Just please, I beg, leave me alone

Let me die.

He laid there, his crimson eyes closed as ragged breaths tore from his pained lungs. In, out, in, out. That's what he concentrated on, trying not to notice the excruciating pain that cycled through his broken form. It was as if someone had ripped him apart limb from limb, tearing his form, ripping his skin, and then leaving him to die. Which, it was not entirely untrue, but he knew one thing. He was dying. Vincent was lost, in the middle of a forest without anyone near to save him; he needed to be saved. The gunman would never admit how desperately he needed help now, but it was true.

Without someone's help he was going to die. That was what haunted him now, the thought of death was ever so alluring to the man, a peacefully oblivion to escape from the sins that tormented him so badly he couldn't explain it. Yet he feared death, death would mean he could never atone for the sins that still chained his soul to this world. He was tied to a demon; no, a WEAPON by the name of Chaos. One that tormented his mind, body, soul, and heart every moment he lived. For now he could tell his life was finally ending; Chaos was silent.

It was so ironically blissful to not hear the chatter of his demons within his mind. Instead he found that it was a blissful silence he hadn't heard in about thirty one years. Those past years had been filled with nightmares, threats, or coos of the sins he had committed. He admitted to himself that he had sinned, and believed the words spoken by those horrible creatures.

He didn't deny those words.

A particular deep breath sent his whole form screaming in an agonizing pain that he couldn't block, a scream tore from his throat, echoing in the empty woods as he couldn't believe this. This pain was like that from when he was in the hands of a madman by the name of Hojo. Oh how he loathed that man and what had been done; the man turned him into a loathsome monster. He realized one thing, back then he knew what Hojo had done. The man had turned him into the monster he had—and always will see the man was. He was just as despicable, just as evil. But; Vincent knew he was different from the man, the sniper was atoning for his sins the best he could.

Even if it led him to death, his life was worthless since the death of his beloved Lucrecia. She was the one woman he loved, he would always love her. Forever and ever and ever, of course he knew he would be alive for that long, being a WEAPON, a servant of the planet he despised at this very moment within his shortly disappearing life. It was the damned Planet he had helped save four years ago, two years ago, and even a year ago once more he had rose to defend the Planet.

It was his duty; as a WEAPON that is.

And he loathed it with everything of his eternal being. He was a tool; he had always been a tool to something! From Shinra, to Hojo, and even his so called 'friends' had used him as some sort of plaything for amusement, no, maybe not his friends, yet at times it felt that way to him. The Ex-Turk felt the use; it wore his spirit, his soul down to twigs when he felt this feeling. A heavier burden than his sins weighed up him, consuming him until he was a useless shell.

His life, in the end, didn't matter. There was nothing Vincent could do about it anymore. The life he had lived was finally coming to an end, he didn't have much longer until he finally lost his will to live and died. His heart would stop beating, his lungs stop taking in air as his mind shut down. Then, everything would go dark and he would enter the life stream, finally in a dark oblivion of rest, an eternal slumber he prayed to never wake from.

There was hope—a soft, tiny light that shined so dimly within the darkness of his gloomy thoughts that continued to plague his mind. Of course there was some sort of hope for him, in all aspects of this situation, someone could come to him and use some sort of cure spell—saving his life. Yet, he doubted such a thing would happen, if anything, someone would find his body and at least do him the favor of giving him a grave to sleep in for his eternal rest. But there was a doubtful thought for even that.

He was in an abandoned woods; one near the city of Edge that was rarely used—no matter what anyone said that was how it was. The man knew of what his fate was to be, and accepted it. Slowly he felt himself perish, his breathing was slowing, it was becoming harder and harder to draw in breaths, his heart was beating slower by the minute. His vision blurred on the edges, slowly it would grow dark, and he would know nothing more.

It gave him comfort, in death he would finally be reunited with his beloved Lucrecia. It wasn't long now, not long now until he could hold her within his arms. Such a blissful thing breaking through the gloomy thoughts coming from his mind, it was such a relief to find something good about death. Yet, what if he was immediately cast away and turned into something else? Would he ever be able to meet that woman he cared so dearly for? Would he be able to touch Lucrecia and confess his deepest feelings for her in death? With his luck, a bitter thought entered his mind, he knew that the Planet; a sick and twisted creature, would never let him have such joy.

No, he was to be cast away, ripped from his beloved for all eternity. That was the way it had always been, such a tragic tale that tore him apart every time he remembered how he caused this. It was too much.

He shed the first tear in thirty two years that had fallen from his eyes, that tear showed the true sadness—the true pain that had lingered in his heart for so long. He couldn't deny this ache, this empty darkness that consumed his emotions. It was where he knew that he could never see his beloved. He could never hold her, touch her, and kiss her as he longed so very much to do. Even with these thoughts he longed for death… Even now… He wished for an eternal peace only death could grant him. To let his weathered and beaten soul finally rest.

Even that wish was shattered as he heard something—something roaring loudly coming his way. A grim smile crossed his features as he heard what is it was—a motorcycle of all things. Oh, how he knew his death was going to be even more painful. In this blackened night he couldn't be seen, that damned contraption would run over him, crushing him. If not killing him instantly his death would be even more painful, even slower than it already was, tearing, teasing him so much as if dancing right before his eye and yet he couldn't reach something he longed for so.

The roaring came closer and closer, he couldn't deny it as it was in his direction. How perfect! The man/woman/child that road the thing would run over him and continue on its path without noticing his beaten form on the ground.

Of course—he couldn't stand the waiting, his mind buzzed, fuzzy now with the pain, so much, it could've made him faint. But sadly he wasn't even allowed to die in unconsciousness. No, he had to remain awake for however long it took for his life to finally end. Ha! He cursed the Planet and how it wished for him to suffer. He had experienced so much pain, so much torture within his life. Why wasn't he allowed to at least DIE painlessly?

It made him realize how much he and Sephiroth were alike. Yet, he hated to admit being similar to a foe he had assisted in the defeat of time and time again. The silver haired warrior was under Hojo's torture for years, and each time the man died it was a rather slow death, full of pain. But of course the man probably was sadistic enough to enjoy the pain that was given unto him; sadly Vincent had no such luck. Yet that pang of sympathy—of pity remained for the thankfully dead man.

Yet he knew the man would never lay in his grave forever, he had come back twice before, a third was to be expected. Especially with the words last spoke to Cloud: _I will not remain a memory._

His thoughts continued to drift from one subject to another, dark, bitter, ever so haunting they were. Floating throughout his mind as if it was a torrent of the sea swishing within. Yet he had to note as the bike's roar became louder, that it was such a familiar sound. He had heard it before—yet could not recall where.

It dawned on him, almost in an instant of what roar that was. It was of the bike named Fenir, a motorcycle owned by the man named Cloud Strife. A blonde headed man with chocobo hair that seemed to stand up without the use of hair gel—surprisingly he found out not long ago that it did in fact stay that way.

A bemused smile came to his lips at the thought of his old companion finding him here, struggling to live, to breathe. It was almost too perfect to imagine someone he KNEW finding his broken and torn form lying here near death. It was as if staged by the Planet itself; which of course there was no doubt in the gunman's mind that it had been planned by the sick and twisted humor of the Planet.

It came closer and closer, until he could see out of the corner of his eyes something he didn't like; light. The light shown brightly as headlights consumed him and his had to close his pained eyes to hide from the sudden brightness.

There was a stop, one quickly made as he heard feet—booted feet touched the ground and ran over to him, he could hear the panicked breathing, the pounding of the other man's chest as he was approached. No doubt that the other man was worried about him. Yet he didn't see why.

Cloud rushed over to Vincent, his blue eyes wide in disbelief as he kneeled down next to the man, running a hand through his own blonde hair he tried to calm himself and think clearly on what he should do. He could tell Vincent was badly beaten; of course he could smell the copper scent of blood around him and hastily picked up the shallow breathing form carrying him back to his bike.

"Vincent? Can you hear me?" He found that Vincent was surprisingly light for his size, something that unsettled him. Why was Vincent lighter than probably Yuffie was?

His conclusion was that the man was not taking care of himself. It was something he didn't doubt as he sat down, hearing a sort of strangled noise come from the gunman that he took as a yes. Setting the man gently before him on the bike he make sure not to touch any of the opened and bleeding wounds on the man, carefully kicking the stand and the bike flared to life.

The blonde didn't give a damn about any deliveries he had to do; his one goal was to get Vincent the medical attention needed. The only thing he could do was rush back to the bar and have Tifa and himself help Vincent in any way they could, trying to save the man's life. Even if he didn't want it, as his friend he was going to do it.

He fretted on the journey, making sure the bike was going as fast as if possibly could. He couldn't deny he was worried—he feared for Vincent's ever dimming life that he had to make it in time. If Vincent died now he swore he would never forgive himself. This time he COULD do something about it. He wasn't going to make the same mistake twice in a lifetime, he wouldn't.

Cloud had already let one person die, even he knew he couldn't have done anything for Aeris, a small tinge of guilt would well up when he had those nightmares. The chocobo-head had been forgiven, of course he had. Yet he knew that this time wasn't the same, there was no Sephiroth to blame for this. It would be solely his responsibility if Vincent died on him. He wasn't about to let that happen.

It seemed to take an eternity before Cloud hoped off his bike with the crimson caped man within his arms. He ran as fast as he could up the steps to the bar known as Seventh Heaven. Everyone was taken by shock and surprise as he came in, holding the injured man within his arms.

"Help! Tifa! Please! Vincent… We need to help Vincent now! Or he'll DIE!" He sounded serious, fretful even at the barely conscious man in his arms stirred, his crimson eyes gazing around.

Tifa was already on it as she rushed Cloud to the room behind the bar, instructing Cloud on the bed he obeyed quickly without a single word Tifa and Cloud removed the headband Vincent wore, the cape and tossed those two aside. Almost ripping off the belts and forcing off the man's shirt rather quickly they even removed his boots and pants. All of these garments tossed aside…

"Get me some water, rags, towels, bandages, and something to clean out these wounds!" She ordered as Cloud rushed off in a hurry to obey the woman.

It took Cloud only a few seconds to get all of the supplies they needed to help the semi-conscious man. All Cloud could do was watch and hand Tifa things as she tended to his wounds, removing the bullet even from Vincent's thigh by method of tweezers. That was when they found out the gunman was at least partly aware of what was going on as a hiss came from his pale lips.

He was scared, almost horrified at the several scars adorning Vincent's flesh. He even noticed the patterns made on a dead body when cut open. Cloud didn't know much of what had happened to Vincent within Hojo's labs, but he figured out that the majority of the scars along the man's torso, on his legs, arms, and the one on his forehead, a few on the neck, and on along his jaw line were probably cause by Hojo… Especially the bullet wound where Vincent's heart was located. And a slash mark, it made Cloud wonder what exact cruelty had been preformed upon the man.

What seemed to be hours was a few minutes, almost, as soon Cloud was asked to turn Cloud, who did quickly and gently to the man as Tifa cleaned the remaining wounds located—several of them located on his back. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as Tifa started to bandage all of his wounds. On his hip, his whole torso was covered, and a few on his arms. That was where these bandages were located on the once red-caped man.

Finally the tedious work of cleaning and bandaging his wounds was over as Cloud put everything away and threw out the bloody water and towels; they would just buy new ones of course. Saving Vincent was worth it.

Cloud walked back into the room as Tifa sat there, finishing sanitizing her hands and looked up at Cloud with a relieved look on her face.

"As long as his wounds don't get infected, I think he'll live." She nodded and stood, leaving the room. But before she left a smile crossed her features as she turned back to Cloud. "Cloud, how about you stay with him?"

Cloud just nodded his head and Tifa left, rushing back to the bar to serve costumers…

The blonde took the chair Tifa had occupied and turned it around, sitting he rested his arms on the back and his chin on his hands watching the man breathe; making sure that each breath was the same. So he knew that thankfully Vincent was either sleeping or unconscious. It was a relief to know that his friend now had a rather good chance of living.

But it was odd to see Vincent lying there, in his boxers and socks without anything else on. Sure, he had never seen Vincent without his usual garbs cloaking his form. And it made him realize, even though the crimson eyed form was tall, he was so thin. Almost fragile looking, as if he could be so easily broken if someone touched him with more than a feather light touch. It was scary to think that one of his friends, one that had saved his life more times than he could count could be so fragile looking.

He had always seen Vincent as the strongest of their group, the steady tall mountain that would never quake, that could never be toppled over. And yet here he was, on the brink of death and lying so exposed to the world.

It was a though that frightened Cloud as he stood and pulled a blanket over the man, thinking that he might be cold being so… underdressed. But now a new curiosity overtook him as he looked at the golden claw attached to his arm. He leaned down, grabbing it gently and looking at the flesh where the claw and arm met. To his absolute horror he realized that the thing was welded into the man's flesh! Welded! Metal was… It… the arm… Cloud couldn't think strait for a moment or two in his surprise and shock. But it made him realize that he shouldn't have expected anything less from a madman such as Hojo. There was no doubt that was the cause for such an arm.

Closing his blue eyes as he sat back down the blonde pushed his fearful thoughts away for a moment and then opened them looking back at the caped man. Of course he worried more and more for his condition, watching him sleep…

At least now he was safe, but he wanted to ask Vincent what had happened to him, but he realized he would have to wait until the man was conscious, wondering how long it would take him to wake up.

Anything from days, week, months, to maybe even years if the man went into a coma, something he prayed didn't happen. But of course with the luck that happened with them. He bet that was the case. Vincent would be lost to them, forever… But he hoped not. Vincent was a friend he trusted more than others. He had gone to the man and confessed his fears, his woes to time and time again. And yet the man would only listen, but sometimes, rarely, gave invaluable advice that he always took to heart. No matter what it was, of course.

With all of these thoughts bouncing through his troubled mind, Cloud soon fell asleep.

Only too be woken by the sound of a pained voice, calling his name. His cerulean eyes opened as he glanced at Vincent, who he could see was still in tremendous pain. Standing, he took the few steps to walk over to the man and looked down at him, hearing once more a raspy deep voice that came from Vincent, asking for him.

"Vincent? Are… Are…" He wasn't going to say 'are you alright' since in total obviousness the man was in severe pain. "Do you need anything?"

The man answered with a weak no, but Cloud doubted that as he told Vincent he would be right back and rushed into the bar, grabbing a glass and filling it with water, without saying anything else he ran back and then realized that the crimson hued man couldn't drink the water like that… He was going to have to push him up to do something like that.

"Vince, this is going to hurt like hell—but you need to sit up so you can breathe easier, and drink. Later I'll get you some soup alright?"

He heard a sort of yes come from Vincent and gingerly placed his hand on the back of his friend, lifting the man up enough so he was sitting and snatched a few pillows, tucking them behind him before lowering him down once again. Slipping his arm away he gave the man the water, putting the glass up to his lips and slowly, but surely the man drank all of it, thankful for the cool water rushing down his throat.

Softly smiling, he put the glass down and heard a faint thank you come from Vincent. There was a first time for anything, and hearing thanks from the man was it. Sure, Vincent was polite and all but he never let anyone do anything for him, ever. So those two words together were never used from him. Yet now things were different. He knew that Vincent's life was completely and totally dependant on what Cloud did for him, it would probably take a few weeks for his recovery till he could do things for himself again, but he didn't mind.

But for now he had to watch over Vincent, like a hawk. Soon the man's bandages were going to need to be changed. Not that he mind doing the task, it was just that Vincent was fully conscious now, and it was going to be painful when he used salve and cleaned out whatever had formed in the wounds. It would probably be the first time he would ever see Vincent like that.

Still, it wasn't going to be the last.

Vincent was awake, fully awake and aware of his surroundings. Not that he minded this, yes, he truly hated this. The crimson eyes of the man glanced around the room. Sure, he was thankful for what had been done for him; of course he had to thank Cloud, and possibly Tifa for saving his life. But he hated being defenseless, vulnerable, and exposed. All three things were happening now. And around friends no less of people helping him.

It wasn't that he didn't trust them; he truly did with all of his heart and soul. But there were things he didn't wish for other people to see that they were seeing now. His scars, each one held a painful and horrible memory to it; he remembered the exact details of what had happened when he received such marks. Yet he couldn't stop his mind from cringing. Would they ask questions? That past was something he couldn't relive, not now… Of all things he couldn't bear the thought of revisiting such a past that kept him from sleeping. It kept him from making sure he was alright.

That portion of his life was a direct result of his sins. The pain and torture he had endured then was because of that. He had deserved it; he would never deny that, no matter who decided differently.

Yet even with these thoughts his mind was still fogged by pain, and slowly that fog led him into the blissful thing called sleep. Even if he didn't need it, such wounds needed recovery. That was why he slept, to pass the time where his wounds would be healed and he could once more be the independent grown man that he was.

He was awoken hours later by a terrible sting, his eyes flew open and a grunt of pain escaped his throat, realizing that slave, painful slave was being put onto his wounds.

And the one doing such a thing was Cloud Strife… The man had saved his life.


	2. Worry

**Wounded**

_**Chapter Two:**_

**Worry**

Please heal me from this misery

From the pain I've suffered these times

Lend me a hand, support me

You're my friend, right?

I beg for you help

I need it so much now

Wounded, I am here

Lying, defenceless

I feel so alone

Help me heal from these wounds

Inflicted upon me painfully so

A part of healing will be your care

Which I've needed dearly for so very long

My friend, please help me

Help me right now

I cannot survive on my own like this

No matter how I say otherwise

But one thing I must say

If I am to die from this

It is not your fault for what death I may receive

I have lived such a long time, my friend

Even if I am to pass

I promise it will not be the last time we meet

I will see you in the lifestream

Take as long as you need to join me there.

Cloud was gasping at how bad the wounds were, sure he had seen them before, but as he unwrapped the bandages he realized HOW bad they actually were. The wounds on his torso alone were horrific, especially the stab. It was a wonder to how he was still living. He sighed slightly seeing that the salve was stinging the man… Of course it was going to hurt; anything that worked was very painful.

Holding Vincent back gently he continued to slather the wounds in the healing herbal green gunk that both smelled rather bad but it looked even worse… He lifted the crimson eyed man with ease as he rubbed the salve on his back. He could hear soft hisses of pain from the man and sighed slightly, he hated causing Vincent pain. But it was the only way to keep him alive.

"Vincent, I'm sorry that this hurts, but… We don't want you to die…" Cloud said, whispering as he started to wrap the wounds once again. It was odd to see Vincent so vulnerable…

He still couldn't get over the fact that Vincent was like this, his curiosity was burning up within him to ask what had happened. He longed to know why Vincent was in such a condition, oddly enough he couldn't help but smile as he finished and once again tucked the helpless man in and wondered on how Vincent still didn't look like shit. Most people would look so completely horrible if they were in the same situation, but the red eyed man looked almost unfazed except that he was a few shades paler—if that was even possible of course.

It made him realize why Vincent wasn't with anyone, well probably part of the reason was it would be depressing for a lover to wake up looking horrible as people did after they slept and to see Vincent perfect as if he never went to bed. It would make him feel like shit too…

If he was gay that was, but he had Tifa… It was sort of a secret that they were together, but of course with their friends it wasn't going to be that way for long. He didn't mind that much of course, as long as his love was happy he was completely and utterly fine with it all. She meant the world to him; she always had and always would.

Grabbing the hand sanitizer the cleaned his hands and then took his seat once more by Vincent, he hadn't gotten that much sleep in the past day, watching the man was consuming all of his time. He had to make sure Vincent survived, there was no doubt he couldn't help but do such a thing. But the people who had hurt his comrade so, he vowed silent revenge against them. It amazed him that the man was injured in the first place. Why hadn't he used the demons of his to kill the men?

Maybe Vincent couldn't have done that? His brown furrowed and he was snapped out of his wonderings by a voice, one that he liked to hear more than anything.

"Cloud! Oh Cloud… I called everyone to come…" She laughed slightly coming into the room, trying to lighten the dark mood that settled over them.

"What?" Cloud was confused for the moment until it clicked; everyone was coming to see Vincent. Sure, of course when someone was injured this badly everyone would naturally come to see the injured person and wish them well. But he wasn't entirely sure it was the best thing for the man right now.

"Everyone is coming here… I've made sure that all of the rooms; the extra rooms are ready so you can stay here with Vincent, if you want." She was seemingly one edge, it was odd to see Tifa like that, but he presumed it was because there was an injured person who could most likely die at any moment around. And the fact it was a dear friend of theirs added.

She left the room in a brisk manner, it confused Cloud. The thought of leaving to go after her was tempting but he resisted the urge and again kept his seat by the now sleeping gunman. A smile crossed his lips as he watched Vincent sleep so soundly.

"So Vincent, I guess it's just you and me until everyone comes huh?" It seemed silly talking to someone that was sleeping. But he had seen Marlene and Tifa talk to Denzel back when he had Geostigma, maybe it would help his friend now? Doubting that he decided to go to hell with it and do it anyways.

"Well then, I guess I can't really talk much to you. I barely know anything about you Vincent, ya know? You just don't talk to anyone, except probably Cid that is. I kinda wish you'd open up to us once in awhile, it's sad to see you so distant from all of us all the time."

He paused, a frown crossing his features. "Why are you so cold, Vincent?"

There was no words spoken back to him, of course there wouldn't be. Since the man was sleeping soundly, it still surprised him looking at Vincent so peaceful and asleep. Even the expression his friend wore was more peaceful than it ever had been. He wondered slightly on why it was only in this situation he'd see the gunman like this…

But he shrugged it off and yawned, deciding that closing his eyes for just a moment wouldn't hurt… Just a minute or two wasn't going to do any harm.

He fell asleep, soon enough he was in a darkness of dreaming that he was dancing along with yellow chocoboes. Completely and totally oblivious to what he was doing in reality. But now it mattered now as he danced around with his feathered friends, a smile on his lips as he continued his merry go around.

The chocoboes warked and he was joyfully dancing around with them, and a friend of his, one of them was called 'Fluffers'. Of course there was a reason why! The chocobo was fluffy, very fluffy. A great friend of his he loved more than anything! With a grin on his lips this merriment continued.

Until he snapped back from his rather odd yet pleasant dream and he glanced around, shocked that he had actually fallen asleep.

Cid was standing there, on Vincent's other side and looked at Cloud with a slight grin on his face. The man had been watching Cloud sleep for a few hours and was glad he had finally woken up. "Hey, chocobo head. You've been sleeping for about ten damn hours, you bitch." He said quietly, making sure to not disturb the sleeping man.

Cloud could see the worry on the older man's face. Vincent and Cid were really close, as far as he knew. Even if it didn't seem like it, Cid had the best understanding of Vincent. Cloud sometimes envied the man for knowing so much about the gunman, but other times he could see after the two of them talked, the etched pain on Cid's face was almost unbearable, and Vincent looked guilty every time.

He wondered what they talked about during those times, was it about Vincent's past, or Cid's… The blonde wasn't sure, but he couldn't help but ponder over it. Wondering what the two talked about when they were alone together. At first everyone thought they were gay but that was shot down awhile ago when Shera and Cid announced they were getting married. It was in about two months from now, if he remembered correctly.

It was kinda scary to think that soon there would be little Cid's running around the place, he pitied Shera sometimes, but they loved each other. Even if Cid was a rather difficult person… Some things, like this, were never ever going to be explained without blowing the minds of everyone.

"Cid?" Cloud asked a little weakly, wondering what was up with the man. He was still rather tiredly, since he had just woken up. "When did you get here?" He made sure to keep his voice low, for Vincent's sake.

"Ten hours ago, bitch. Shortly after ya' damn ass fell the fuck asleep." The other man hissed, making sure that Cloud heard.

"Sorry, I've been exhausted…" Cloud apologized, embarrassed.

"Everyone else is here, damnit… They're all fucking asleep shit head." This was the pilot's usual attitude, he seemed tense though…

"I figured that, Cid, why don't you calm down alright?" Cloud sighed, irritated with the man's anger.

The mechanic paused for a moment and then closed his eyes, letting out a breath of pent-up frustration. "…I'm calm."

"Okay, what's got you worked up so much, Cid?" The blonde was rather concerned with his rather rough friend, sure, he knew that the pilot and Vincent were close, he had thought about that before. But, there was something more to it than that.

"We should've worked a bit fucking harder to find the damn man, I don't want to see him go and fucking return to the shit fucked up Planet." So Cid was worried about the man too.

"…He won't… I hope…"

"Not much we can do."

"Yea… How about… We just sit here and wait for him to wake up, how does that sound?"

"Damn, best idea yet." There was a bit of sarcasm in that statement.

The two, for now, sat in silence, watching the gunman's breathing. Sure, it was a bit odd to see Vincent's full face, and without his cape on… The man looked so thin… So sickly. It was as if seeing Vincent in a new light, no longer did he look like the strong, silent, and mysterious gunman but yet some sort of man that was lying here, injured, weak, and sleeping. There was no doubt that this was a rather large change for all of them to see, especially with Vincent's clothing stacked in a pile that was neatly laid in the corner, they took away the dark man's armor and he was left vulnerable.

Scary, that was the only word to describe it was, frightening even. The one person they had always depended on, the one that had watched over them silently in the shoulder. The one they could talk to when something was bothering them, and he would do exactly what they needed. Whether it was advice, or even just to sit there and listen he would do it, just the way it was needed. That image of him was shattered almost, since for once they had to take care of him. Not the other way around.

Their silence, for both of them, was spent in deep thought. Cid was contemplating on what they were going to do if the injured man before them died. That would be the biggest tragedy in his life, he was close to the gunman, he had been since a little incident occurred several years ago… Cid became lost, remembering that time.

_Stormy blue eyes gazed upon the red-caped man before him. The man was walking in front of him, for once not in the rear of the group, thinking to himself. The pilot was curious on why Vincent was for once being a member of their group and not hiding out in the back, acting like he had something to his, but it wouldn't surprise the blonde that he had something to hide. The guy was too damn mysterious._

_He observed that Vincent was inaudibly talking to Cloud, it was rather often that Cloud asked for Vincent's advice, not that he was surprised about it. Vincent was probably the smartest one, and the most strategic of the whole group, which made him easy to keep around. Sure enough, they had to put up with the few quirks that Vincent possessed, that of course he didn't like. Being a rather loud and sometimes obnoxious individual himself… It was just not his taste to have someone around that just stood there and stared._

_Unnerving if you will, that was a way to put it. Or sometimes it was just so damn downright creepy he couldn't help but get some damn shivers down his spine feeling those piercing crimson eyes on you from any damn angle._

_But he listened in, blocking out the chatter from the oblivious others to hear what the two were saying…_

"…_We are currently looking for what exactly?" Cloud sounded confused._

"_Somewhere to place the Huge Materia…" Vincent's smooth voice carried easily._

"_Well, I'm not sure…"_

"_Discuss it with the group later on." Vincent suggested._

"_Yea, that sounds like a good idea!" He smiled, a true Cloud smile, one that could break through all cold hearts. Except for the one that belonged to Vincent Valentine, there was no doubt since the man stood there unaffected by such a thing._

_Vincent quickly turned his heel, looking somewhat off of his usual self. But Cid decided something that day, they were going to have a little damn chat. Sure, they had talked, a little in the past, more so the one night Vincent got drunk in the Gold Saucer in the middle of the night._

_That was something he could never forget, seeing the caped-man rather… Talkative. Yes, that was the word to describe how he acted that day._

_Cid followed the black-haired man to the back and stood beside him as the odd person looked at him curiously. The mechanic didn't say anything for the moment but waited until Vincent got back his usual rhythm of being almost completely out of ear-shot of the others. Which soon enough happened in just under a minute, finally the blonde had an opportunity to talk with the man._

"_What's up with you?" Vincent had seemed a little off this morning, maybe he was even worried? Cid didn't buy that, it wasn't like the red eyed man to be worried, or to even be affected by anything around him._

"…_What do you mean?" Vincent seemed mildly curious on what was going on. _

"_Damnit, I mean that you're off." He said, swearing._

"_I know."_

_Cid sighed, and realized that the group had stopped and was now looking back at them, silently. Vincent seemed to shrink away without a sound and Cid sighed slightly, angered. Why did they always do that? Was it so strange that he was talking to Vincent? Damn, they were starting to piss him off._

"_I am going to check the area."_

"_I'm goin' with him." And the two of them set off, Cid trying his hardest to catch up with the rather illusive man._

_Vincent didn't seem to notice that Cid was following him, not that he minded the silence. He was just waiting for him to slow down, the man was going at a rather fast pace that… It was hard to keep up with. Of course he couldn't blame the man for being so down, kinda. He was there, he saw the whole thing. _

_Lucrecia had rejected him a week ago, and it was some rejection. Only He, Tifa, and Cloud had the best view of this of course. First had come the voice of the woman named Lucrecia… She had said his name…_

"_That voice, can it be?" Vincent's words were spoke softly, but out loud so that only the group could hear. "Lucreica?" He said the name out loud, louder than the previous statement, asking for the woman he loved so dearly._

"_Vincent?" Her voice came, Cid remembered looking up at the woman that was named Lucrecia. _

_And Vincent rushed forward, uncharacteristically rushing towards the woman everyone knew he had loved before he was put into that coffin and even now, decades later he was rushing towards her, they could almost feel what he felt for the woman; an undying love. One that could and would never waver…_

"_Lucreica!" The name was uttered from his lips, full of the emotions he fell for her but before he could reach her she shouted out "Stay back!" and the man froze._

_Yet the man seemed just content with looking at her as he spoke once again to his beloved. "Lucrecia… You're alive..."_

"_I wanted to disappear… I couldn't be with anybody… I wanted to die…" She spoke, solemnly and then looked around at everyone, not seeing them almost. "But the Jenova inside of me wouldn't let me die…" _

_It was as if Cid could've heard Vincent's heart break when she said those words, but despite that the woman continued._

"_Lately, I dream a lot of Sephiroth… My dear, dear child." She sighed, sad that she couldn't see her beloved son. "Ever since he was born I never got to hold him…" She almost cried. "Not even once. You can't call me his mother… That… is my sin…" And Cid wished he could interrupt and say 'Oh, your sin that your son is a murdering silver haired freak of nature? Damn bitch…'._

_Once more Vincent tired to move forward, to reach the woman he loved so badly, Cid could tell he wished to take that woman in his arms and comfort her the best he could. Yet once again she was rejected. "Back! Stay back!" She screeched at him, and Vincent stopped._

"_Vincent… Won't you please tell me?" She asked the man she had just asked to stay away from her._

"_What?" The Ex-Turk sounded so eager to please her._

"_If Sephiroth is still alive?" She sounded so hopeful, so… "I heard that he died five years ago. But I see him in my dreams so often…" She paused, thinking hard on the matter before continuing. "And I know that physically, like myself, he can't die so easily." She finished, and looked at Vincent, wanting to know that her beloved child was still alive._

_Cloud stepped forward, as if he was going to inform her of all of the horrible things he had done recently, but Vincent stopped him with a swift motion, telling him to back off._

"_Lucrecia…" Vincent sounded truly mournful as he spoke to her. "Sephiroth is dead…"_

_Cid realized that Vincent didn't want to cause her any more grief, he didn't look the woman in the eyes as he had turned his head to the side… He had done it for ther sake, and not his own._

_Snapping out of the flashback, he looked ahead of him and seeing that Vincent was standing in front of a pond, a rather small one. It was like Vincent was in another world, one where no one could understand what was going on, along with the entrance barred away from all those he dared to try and enter._

_But, Cid was a stubborn man as he walked up to the red-clad gunman and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Vince." He said, calm…_

"_Hm?"_

"_You don't have to suffer alone, damnit."_

"_I know…"_

Cid snapped out of his memories in time to catch what Cloud said. "Hey, Cid… Do you think he's going to live?" He hadn't heard that tone from the other man in months. It was a sad, almost… afraid voice coming from Cloud, he was uncertain about what was going on. Of course… He was also.

"Damn, I'm not sure." The pilot said.

"…Neither am I."

All that could decide this was time, they had to wait to see if their friend was going to live or return to the lifestream.

And sometimes waiting was the worst part.

**WOUNDEDWOUNDEDWOUNDEDWOUNDEDWOUNDEDWOUNDED**

**Charan-Amaya**: Well… This fanfiction brings me to tears I must tell you, I love it very very much and hate it a lot. I don't think this chapter is so great but…

Eh, its reviewers to decide I must say so hurry it up and review please!


	3. The Pained Song of a Fallen Angel

**Wounded**

_**Chapter Three:**_

**The Pained Song of a Fallen Angel**

Can you hear a voice that begs to be awaken

Can you touch a man that can never wake

Is there something that has to be done before I can rest

And leave these nightmares behind for an eternal peace

Is there no way I can be saved from this never-ending pain

Shall I continue my suffering, and you're worrying

For all of our eternity

If you can hear my thoughts, my prayers

I ask you to be merciful unto me

Pick you your blade and end me now

I beg of you to do it, please

I will not be here for much longer

But will you truly let me suffer

Cruel, that is what you are

To leave me like this, waiting for the end

Yet if I shall wait for the end to come to me

I only hope it comes soon.

Days had passed by, even more than days. Weeks… It'd been two weeks since Vincent had woken up for the first and only time. It was upsetting to them that the gunman was still lying unconscious. He had woken once since he had been under there care. That was it, nothing more of a whisper of consciousness had come from him within that remaining time. His wounds weren't even healing, they wouldn't bleed, but it seemed as if there was some sort of poison within him that stopped him from healing, and that was what kept their dear friend from waking.

Vincent hadn't responded to anything that they had to and for him within the time that they had been caring for the gunman. It seemed as if he didn't want to wake up, maybe he was awake, but his eyes closed and breathing slow. Perhaps he wanted to die. There was not a way to tell if he was within that area of mental chaos, or if he was within a boundary of sanity. If that was even possible for him, or perhaps it was not. The questions without answers continued to bounce around two blonde men's heads as they worried and wondered, waiting for an answer to these mysterious questions.

They rarely had a moment of sleep with the constant worry and guilt that was within their minds. It was a depressing time for everyone; a worrying Tifa took several calls daily from other concerned friends about the gunman. Yet each time the answer from the bright-eyed woman was the same: "No, he's the same."

There was depression everywhere within the Seventh Heaven bar; no one had joy left with the waiting for one of two things to happen. Everyone there wondered upon a single question that continued to haunt them. Was Vincent Valentine going to die? There wasn't talk between one another at the possibility of Vincent's death; they kept their mouth's shut, not wanting another wave of tears to take over everyone. Life and death flowed together side by side; one could not exist without the other, even when life brought joy, and death, despair.

They each tried their hardest to put back the blood of life within the demonic man; it wasn't something that was an easy task. Both mentally and emotionally everyone needed something to help them through this. If the gunman before them didn't survive, how were they to forgive themselves for his death? That was a question not a soul there wanted the answer to. But if he had to leave them, if the man had to pass to the beyond, leaving this world behind and returning to the lifestream, at least let him say goodbye.

That was what they needed to hear from the gunman, and then they could let him die.

That day dragged on like any other day had since the sniper came into their care. It was an eternity for the hours and minutes, even for the seconds to pass with the dread within their hearts weighing them down. That was the fear, the unknowing fear of what would happen, the terror within their very souls that clutched and dragged them down to the depths of despair.

It was the same grief that they had experienced so many years ago, a pain that was down from the roots of the loss of an angel by the name of Aeris. Even if she had forgiven them, there was still that feeling that they had let the maiden down, and her death was their fault. Though, even if they couldn't have prevented her death, but now, maybe, just maybe, they could save Vincent's. If they didn't, they only had themselves to blame for the death of the crimson-hued man.

The absolute truth was to them all one thing and one thing only, if the gunman died, the pain would be more than that of losing Aeris. Regret would hold them to their own deathbeds, the regret of never getting to actually know the man behind the cape. The mysterious gunman had been with them at least four years, in friendship, but now, after all of this time. One thing, and only one thing was evident, they truly didn't know the man they called their friend.

It was night now; darkness had taken over for the light and the moon shone brightly, hanging there full within the dark, star-littered sky. Cloud was sleeping upon the ground, a blue blanket wrapped around his form, cuddled up like a child after a horrid nightmare. Cid, on the other hand, was sitting beside Vincent, a hand feeling the forehead that was cold at this point. A worried look upon his face took over; lines of age creased the lines of his face.

"If you die Vincent…" His words were soft, quiet, and kind at the moment, as he said nothing more for a moment, choking back tears.

Yet he didn't speak the words that he feared would come true, there was a way that Vincent could die at this time, he didn't wish for such a thing to happen; yet it was inevitable. One day Vincent was going to die, but he didn't wish for that day to be today, not now, and not while he lived.

Finally, after sobs had stopped, he looked upon the peaceful and sweet face of the other one. A soft smile came to his face, knowing that this was the only time within his life he would see the man sleeping so soundly. But worry came over him, a lingering fear and knowing of why the other was so sound and serene at this time.

The one and only question that kept replaying over and over like a broken record was this: 'Would Vincent die?'

And that was a question that no one here could answer at this time.

Looking at the sleeping form of Cloud, he didn't bother to talk for a moment but knew that he had to hit the sack soon. "Hey, Cloud, get your lazy ass up and watch over Vincent, but wake me up if he wakes, or…" He didn't need to complete his sentence, the awakening blonde knew what his pilot friend was going to say and mumbled a few curses before standing and groggily walking to the abandoned seat. Trying to keep his blue hues opened he unfocused and focused upon the form of Vincent before his vision came back to him. Then he muttered a quick goodnight to his friend, and kept awake for his watch, nodding off once or twice.

Hours continued to tick by and trickle through there hands, flowing like water that you can never hold, but only watch fall through the cracks. It was a thing that no one could keep in place, nothing could still time, at least, not for long. As far as anyone knew was that time could only be kept still for one second within life, and that was at the end, at death. Sad and true that in one single moment of when death occurred, life flashed before your eyes with the memories of what was held from that short yet wonderful period of existence. Yet after that moment was over, the inevitable ending came as you returned to the lifestream to start the wonderful and yet terrible cycle of life and death back into motion over and over again. It would continue forever, even when the Planet died; this cycle would forever continue its flow for all of eternity. Only at the end of everything would life, death, darkness, light, good, and evil finally come to a final rest were everything went into nothingness.

Hopefully, it was prayed from several and from few for the same thing that wouldn't happen that the ceasing of existence was not to occur, that it would never occur for the sake of life continuing throughout the ages of existence.

Perhaps it could even happen within a second from the time of now, the present, or maybe within the distance or near future would this occur. But for now, even within the times of waiting and fear of the death of someone loved, there was enjoyment and remembrance of that one thing they could stay thankful for, the life they had, and the time they had to spend that life looking for happiness. And that was probably the only thing they could do at this point, live their lives to the fullest that they could each and every single day they had left to spend breathing.

Even though there was one thing that could be argued, even if life was spent towards finding happiness and peace, if there was a person who couldn't achieve that goal within their lives, was it worth living, or was it a waste of life and breath from a person that couldn't do anything to find their own individual peace.

Blinking awake from his thoughts once more, Cloud looked at the figure before him with a sigh upon his lips. Vincent wasn't going to wake up anytime soon, anyone that wasn't an idiot could see that. The man had been comatose for several days, even weeks on top of that, yet, he wasn't going to awaken within the next few minutes, hours, days, weeks, and perhaps even months. Wouldn't it be kinder to let him die now than to suffer within a vegetative state for Planet-knows-how-long?

Shaking his head, blonde tresses glittered in the dim light the room offered, he wouldn't speak, hoping to not break the delicate silence that hung in the air. Yet it had been done for him, the glass shattering as a snore tore through the air, signaling that the old pilot was sound asleep, away from the worries of the awakened world from the roars of his snoring. A smile crept to soft petals as a soft chuckle escaped from his throat, ah, Cid was a comic fellow. Even in sleep there was a laugh that he could bring out of even Mr. Emo himself.

"Vincent," his voice started softly as he spoke to the other, worried about his dear friend who might be lost to the endless arms of time, "I'm sorry that I couldn't save you this time, from whomever it was that hurt you. I… I don't know why I didn't know that you were in trouble, why didn't you call for one of us, Vince? Don't you trust us enough as your friends to save you from something? You don't have to live life alone, Vince; we're here for you, all of us."

Of course there was no reply from a man who couldn't speak within his unconscious and coma-like state. It was slightly foolish to believe that he would respond to such hopeful and wanting words, begging for the other to open his blood-colored hues and say with a soft some 'Cloud, it is alright, I trust all of you. I will be fine from now on, you are all my friends and I care dearly for each and every one of you. Thank you for caring.' Yet that was an impossible thing, Vincent was not a man to say things such as that, to admit weaknesses was impossible. Arrogant, perhaps it was arrogance that this man had that kept him from admitting feelings and the like to them all, or perhaps it was a deep fear that was rooted within a past that they only had the slivers of detail for.

That was the truth in this, their friend didn't reveal much of his past to them, and he rarely did.

Not that anyone could blame the man for keeping things locked up within himself, even if almost to nothing was known about him, what was known kept them from prying further. The crimson-hued gunman faced a terrible rejection by the woman he loved without regret, yet that had cost him his very life, and his humanity. Trying to save her and her child from horrid experiments that would wrack havoc upon their lives. Yet he had failed them, trying his hardest as he had done had only caused pain and misery upon the three. Because of the man, Hojo, had gotten to the child that Lucrecia had birthed, Sephiroth, it ended up as the times that had happened thirty years later, the child had become a murderer and attempted to destroy all humanity that was living upon the Planet, he tried to destroy everything to become 'god'.

It didn't work, even if the mako-hued angelic creature that was created from the Calamity of the Skies, that had fallen from the Heavens, JENOVA. Injected and infused with the JENOVA cells, a powerful and horrible substance that mutated his genes and created the super SOLIDER that the man had become so long ago. Sephiroth had been a great SOILDER, admired by many; even Cloud had looked up to him as his hero several years ago when he was just a young child in the small town of Nibleheim. But now, after several years, now at this very moment he understood why he shouldn't hate the man that had destroyed his very way of life many years ago. That creature, person, was only to be pitied, this was the cause of a madman who had raised and created a monster, the fault was not Sephiroth's, since that man had been a puppet himself.

Just like he had been to the puppet, he had been Sephiroth's puppet several years ago, but Sephiroth had been just that to Hojo. A puppet, nothing more and nothing less to an insane man's plans to destroy a world he hated. But that had started in a far-off past that was the cause, and root to the troubles the Planet faced now.

"I understand now Vincent, I know not to hate Sephiroth." He said softly, speaking the unconscious form he kept watch over for this time, a smile coming over his features as he continued to talk. "I can only pity him now, just like you do, it isn't his fault for everything that happened, but like you said, its Hojo's."

A smile graced his features for a moment as more words fell from his lips. "Now I understand you just a little more, Vince. The only person we should hate is Hojo, not Sephiroth, because in the end he was just a puppet, just like I was a long time ago. It's a little bit ironic… To know I was a puppet for another puppet, even if we had killed the puppet master. Even you had been that man's toy at one time. I understand just a little bit more about you, and how you think and understand things. But that's why I admire you, that's how you do everything, you think differently than the rest of us, and come to solutions that I can barely get the gist of."

That smile faded, as he knew the other couldn't respond to the words he was speaking now, a worried frown replaced that sweet smile and lingered for only a few moments before his mouth turned into a strait line, hiding, even his eyes hid the tearing emotions he had buried inside.

Yet he didn't start speaking again, with the knowledge that the other wasn't going to be able to hear what he had to say, it wasn't worth speaking the soft and truthful, even painful words that he had buried inside. What he had desired to say to his friend for a long time, to tell the truth about how he felt for the gunman, a man that he considered both an ally, and a great friend he cherished the opinion of. The truth was, he considered that coma-stated man like the older brother he had never had. To look up to the dark man, who had a horrid past that held within it death and despair that was too terrible for him to reveal, even thirty-four or so years beyond the time of the events and his death.

Yet, was there a person that could blame him? No, no one could place blame upon the man for trying to accept his fate and atone for the mistakes of his past, even when Cloud himself couldn't see any blame for a man that was trying to protect a woman that he loved. There was something Vincent hadn't known about the woman he cared for, that they had also found out, but it was too late at the time he had discovered that Lucrecia was married to Hojo, but she had kept her last name, fooling even Vincent, a Turk at the time, that she was available for courting.

That had been the foolish mistake that he had made, he had courted and confessed his love to a married woman that he had thought shared his deep and wonderful feelings he had for her. Cloud understood what the gunman had felt, even if he wasn't going to admit to anyone the deep feelings he had for his childhood friend, Tifa. Maybe one day he could gather the courage and get over the fear of rejection he still held. Just maybe one day, but that one-day wasn't going to be today, he could guarantee that much at this very moment.

He had almost forgotten how tired he was at this time; he moved and lay down on the bed next to the gunman, closing blue hues for just a moment, wanting to rest his eyes. Sadly, the swordsman soon fell into a deep sleep, a rest that he rather did need at this time, but would never admit to that in front of everyone, the worry and stress had been taking its toll on his body and mind.

It was hours before Sleeping Chocobo woke from his sleep, and he looked up, once more blinking tired blue eyes to gaze at the gunman he was beside. Luckily, he had only dozed off for a few hours and not for the entire time that Cid was asleep, it was a good thing that man was a deep sleeper, or he would've already skewered chocobo-head.

A smile came to his face for a few moments, before everything about what had happened previously flooded into mind. A sigh escaped his lips as he checked the other's breathing a pulse before he would let himself calm down. Looking at the inhuman creature that lay before him in an unconscious state, he didn't bother speaking to the man for a time until he was ready to say words that he held.

Yet, his gaze was held upon the creature, he looked human, yes, Vincent had always looked human to him unless in a demonic form, or that of the WEAPON Chaos. He thought about the other's features, like the translucent and creamy pale skin the other had. And the crimson eyes that were under thin delicate eyelids, they looked like blood, a piercing gaze that could hold anyone in their depths. But they were cold, except for the times he could look into Vincent's eyes and almost see the pain he hid from everyone. Yet, before he could explore that pain the other held deep within his very heart and soul, the other would close himself off once again, blocking out everyone so they couldn't share the torment he dwelled in.

Maybe when he woke up and recovered from the wounds that wouldn't heal at this time, maybe then the other would finally open up and share the deep pain inside, but that was a foolish hope, the other wouldn't open. Ridiculous was the only word to describe the notion, Vincent had already learned that it wasn't his fault for the pains and sorrows that Lucrecia and himself had to bear for so long of a time. But Cloud knew there was something else the gunman blamed himself for, and realized that he would do the same if he were in the elder man's position. He blamed himself for what happened to Sephiroth, even if he had been dead during the time, and sleeping within his coffin, enduring hellish nightmares of torment.

Standing, he moved and checked the clock, it was noon, at least he hoped it was, the curtains were drawn to block out the light, they all knew Vincent wasn't fond of the daytime, and kept it dark for his sake. In his head, he had to admit that it would be a little funny to see Vincent scowl with seeing that he was lying in bed, and having sunlight shine in his eyes. That clip from his imagination was enough to earn a soft chuckle from his lips. It was extremely rare to see any sort of expression from Vincent, still, any form of emotion was a good thing, even if it was anger that was directed towards him, which, usually the anger was directed towards him, or exasperation.

He had a little thing that he had seen, or at least heard from Vincent, a long time ago on the Highwind, Vincent, he guessed, didn't know he was there listening. But he had heard Vincent singing in the middle of the night, in the shower. He had slipped into the one nearby, since it was a group shower, two of them on the ship, after all. He had woken up in the middle of the night, tense and sore from a recent battle and thought that a nice long hot shower would do him some good. But he had gotten something better from that experience; he had heard a wonderful voice that sounded as if it had come from an angel itself. Closing his blue hues he was lost within the memory of that day, the day he heard a fallen angel singing a painful tune, but it was still beautiful.

"_Within sadness and pain, the world chases away the fear we all once held, together." Soft sounding words coming from a low and pained voice floated to Cloud's ears. He blinked in surprise before realizing who the singer was, why, it was no one other than Vincent Valentine himself, singing a sorrowful song smoothly, succulently, sounding softly off the walls of the showers. A smile floated to his lips as he moved and hid in another shower to listen to the haunting melody the other brought in this dark night._

"_Even when the dawn sings, the birds cry their last songs, I know that one thing is true, I'll always love you." The voice continued to bounce around, a haunting effect established as a smile came to his lips, this was the first time he had ever heard the other sing, and it was beautiful. "Sunrise comes, a new day to come, and yet I know that now our love has past, expired." _

"_I left one day to confront someone, telling them to stop your pain and fear. That, my dear, granted me one thing, a hole in my chest that remains today."_

_There was no doubt that terrible pain was lased within that wonderful song the other sung with such a voice that should only be within the Heavens among the highest and loveliest angels singing things of joy and happiness. But the truth in the matter was that the man that held such an angelic song, it was filled with pain and sorrow that could be bound within the chains of hell and dragged down to the core of hatred for all eternity. Cloud stayed there, listening to Vincent as he continued to let words spill within the elongated voice that turned to singing. Not even he could resist this siren-like song, a small smile and tear forming, mixed emotions taking hold of his person as he continued to listen. _

"_I'll go to the Heavens, storm the gates of hell, all for you my one and only, with this pain in my heart, a tearing in my soul. You and only you can do this, can heal me, and the wounds, scars, blood that pours and stains my cursed soul." _

_The words were growing darker, deeper levels of the toil that was within him showed itself through the lyrics of the music that he sputtered out without hesitation, the voice never wavered or cracked during the notes. But the gunman paused; taking in a shuddering breath and continued with the poetry he had spun into music. "At least will you do one thing for me, if I live past tomorrow, past the sorrows, will you stay by my side for eternity?" _

"_Please stay with me…" Then, the sniper's voice went from the lovely haunting song to a low humming that seemed to vibrate all around the area. Cloud sat there in the shower, wiping a few tears from his watery eyes as the other had turned off the water and minutes later exited. Cloud committed this into memory, knowing that this was a time he had to remember, the day he heard Vincent Valentine pouring out his very soul where he had heard the raw agony he felt. _

Snapping out of the memory, the blonde swordsman went back to the gunman, a look of slight worry came of his features, the other's head had fallen to the side, and he looked even paler than before. Fearing that the gunman's condition had worsened, he put his hand to the creature's cheek and his brow creased further. His hand tread to the other's throat, placing itself there as hues widened.

* * *

**Charan-Amaya**: Oh the damn suspense of this chapter that I have finally been able to upload after over... What, five days of attempts because this thing isn't working? Yeah. Sucks. Well then, talk to Vincent.

**Vincent Valentine**: BITCH.

**Charan-Amaya**: Thanks. REVIEW!


	4. The Final Breath

**Wounded**

_**Chapter Four:**_

**The Final Breath**

It's too late

You cannot save me, it's not possible

No matter what you do

I cannot live another moment

Life has been full of agony

And now is my eternal rest

Something I have desired for so long

But I cannot linger anymore

My soul is weak

My mind has given up

Finally my heart slows to a stop

I thank you for the time we were together

I treasure all of you

My dearest friends

Even if there is pain together

Be happy that I am finally gone

Now my peace is eternal

Never again will I see the sun

The sky, stars, they are all gone

There is one thing I've gained

And that is an eternal rest

Thank you for your kind words

Touches that have reached my broken soul

Forever will you be blessed

For your eternity

One confession I cannot speak

Words that cannot escape my lips

I love you, all of you

Thank you, my treasured friends

For the kindness that I can never repay

There was fear within his eyes as he looked at his friend's still form, a hand upon his pulse, he couldn't feel a thing, there was nothing there, the crimson-hued form was gone. Cloud realized that for several moments the other hadn't drawn breathe, there was so little time to save the other from death. Panic spread throughout Cloud as he rushed forward, he positioned himself to be on top of Vincent, his hands placed above the other's heart as he prepared to perform CPR upon the other, attempting to bring him back to life. He pushed down, once, twice, three times it came. And he took in a breath, parting the lips of the delicate man, breathing air into his form, once, twice. When there was no response once more his hands went to the heart, pressing once, twice, and again he breathed air, attempting to bring the man back to life. There was no doubt his efforts were the best as several more times he attempted to breathe air into the still form, tears streaking his cheeks as over and over again he pressed the heart, trying to get it to beat once more. His attempts continued to be futile, he tried to rouse the form from death, but he continued to fail. With each passing second it continued to become more and more apparent that Vincent was not going to make it. Yet he didn't stop, a faint hope within his heart that the other would make it, that he would soon open his eyes and gasp, air filling his lungs, alive.

It took ages for him to finally give up his efforts; he slowed the process, whimpers escaping from his throat. His vision blurred by several tears that escaped his azure eyes, realization came finally to him, Vincent Valentine was gone. He collapsed on top of the dead form, sobbing hysterically; begging Vincent to come back to life, begging for him to open his crimson eyes and say that everything was alright. It couldn't be this, this couldn't be what was happening, it was impossible, Vincent couldn't be dead, and he just couldn't! The comprehension of this situation was barely grazing the edges of his clouded mind, sadness was within his heart, a breaking of emotions that he could hear mentally, yet it was lost to the outside. There was no reason that this was supposed to happen, not this, not the death of a dear friend, he had already lost Aeris several years ago, and now Vincent had slipped away because of unknown figures that had damaged his flesh.

There was anger that rose up, a deep rage was roused from deep within his soul, a longing for revenge, to take vengeance upon the fools that had dared to strike and cause the delicate and fair man to bleed, for causing this pain, agony, despair that could not be measured or removed. How could he have been so careless, foolish to let the gunslinger suffer death in a pained state? It was his fault, there was no doubt within his mind, the deep caverns that echoed a phrase, one that cause his guilt and pain, something that tore him apart inside.

The sobs that were loud, long, and wet, they woke up a snoring and sleeping Cid, it took a moment for the nicotine addict to realize what was going on. In a rush he moved towards Cloud and the deceased Vincent Valentine, tears filling his sky-like eyes as he put his hands on the gunman's shoulders, shaking the carcass roughly, praying that somehow his movements would bring the dead one back to life. It was a useless effort, one that wasn't going to bring Vincent back, it didn't work, and a cherished friend was lost forever.

Tears filled the old pilot's eyes, as finally sobs tore from him, sorrowful sounds of sadness that was in another pattern than the other blonde's noises that displayed the deep pain that the two of them felt over this. Over the death of their dear friend Vincent Valentine, who they knew would never wake again. The two cried together, expressing their grief openly, unaware that several people around were still attempting to sleep, yet there was no heed paid to this. Why should it be bothered when someone that is cared for has died? Hours and hours were spent, showing their anguish with loud wails of misery, their friend was dead, and he was no more.

Two days had passed since that moment, since the time the man known as Vincent Valentine died; it was a peaceful death, one that had taken place while the man was within unconsciousness. Within a casket he laid, the ex-turk was peaceful for once within existence after the horrendous experiments that Hojo had preformed upon him several moons ago in a time that they did no exist as they were today.

Water streaks, tears streamed down the faces of those who grieved for the gunman, they knew that he was gone; laying within that casket that was his final resting place, within a coffin, so similar to the one they had found him sleeping in four years ago. Tifa tapped Cloud upon his shoulder; it is time to speak a few words in the memory of their good friend.

Stepping before them all, attempting to will the tears that fell to go away for a few moments, but they continued to flow down his pale cheeks, and he spoke to them all. "We didn't know Vincent; he was a mystery to all of us." His words started, tears still dropping to the ground, he lifted a gloved hand to attempt to cast away the sadness, but it still fell down, like pouring rain. "Yet, he was always by our sides in times of need, protecting and defending us all, he never asked for anything in return. He always left us behind for his personal missions, never asking for help, nor desiring it from us, but that was his way, he was our lone wolf. Vincent… Vincent loved a woman named Lucrecia before most of us even existed, continuing on and on he attempted to atone for his sins for the pain he had caused himself and her… We never really understood that love he held, just standing aside and letting him bear that terrible burden on his own, he would have it no other way.

"I wish… I wish we could have done more for him, he lived a long life, in a way, most of it was spent deep within nightmares of a long ago, he was tortured, a broken soul. We never understood that, and now we never will… All I can really say is that Vincent, we'll miss you. You've been our support, our backup, the man who has given us advice for so many years, we'll miss you. And Vincent… We love you. But, I hate to say it; this is the final goodbye… I'll miss you."

He couldn't speak anymore, turning away from the group, he shook his head, a hand over his eyes, trying to both stop the tears and hide the grief that was lodged deep within his soul. That was the second friend he had lost due to his own foolishness, his carelessness, he didn't take care of the gunman enough, he had done something wrong, something he ha done, something he hadn't done, that was what had cost the gunman's life. How could he have let such a dear friend, another one, return to the lifestream for his eternal rest… It was he who was at fault, his dearest friend was gone… Forever, Vincent Valentine was no more but memories of those who loved him.

Cid Highwind was the next one to say a few words, he took his place where Cloud had stood just a few moments ago, overlooking everyone, wiping tears from his old sky-blue eyes, he shook his head, trying to focus on what he wished to say about the dearly departed. "I'm sorry that we couldn't do more to save ya', Vince, I always considered ya' an odd fellow, always keepin' to yourself, sayin' some of the strangest things at times that barely made sense but somehow we all knew what ya' meant. You were a good friend; someone we could go up to and dump all of our problems on and you'd just sit there and listen, and then even give us some damn good advice that for some reason always worked even when the shit barely made any sense. Vince… I'm sorry… We all failed ya'."

The speeches went on until the very last one was given, all seven remaining AVALANCHE members, and two children, named Denzel and Marlene, stood around the grave as the coffin was finally lowered into the ground, Vincent soon after was buried, the lid closed, six feet under the ground with a tombstone marking his solemn gave, words were engraved upon it, flowers littered all around, to stand for all eternity.

_To a man who died, and never had a chance to live._

That was all they could say, after all.

Vincent Valentine was gone.

Days passed the grieving members of AVALANCHE by, those days turned into weeks, and as weeks passed, they turned into months, months, of course months turned to years, years turned to decades, decades turned to centuries, centuries turned into millennia, and that stretched on for eternity. Yet, at this point, the longer events hadn't occurred as only a week or two had passed since the beloved gunman had passed away, a few of them attempting to save his dear life.

Each felt the same way as they sat there, they felt the same pain that had been present when Aeris had passed before their eyes, by the blade of Sephiroth. They knew that it was useless to wish for him to return to them, besides, it was impossible for the dead to come back to life, except that the only exception was Sephiroth himself. But that was irrelevant to them now, nothing was mattering, only the fact that they had failed another, a dear friend who would never be there around them anymore. The gunman's presence had been something that was both soothing, and disturbing, with a dash of mysteriousness to be included. He hadn't asked for anything from them, yet they had asked for so much from the gunman, yet he had never complained, or ever griped about what they wanted and asked from him. He was just that type of person, someone they trusted, but now, now he was gone from them, and there was nothing that could change the fact that the sniper was gone, forever.

Their grief was silent at this time, tears were not shed, and the emotions of sorrow expressed were calm and almost emotionless at this point, they didn't bother to say what they felt, or express such sorrow in any other way except for the fact that they were in pain. It was a deep pain, one that was both hidden and expressed, it was in plain sight, but cutting deep within the flesh of the soul, hiding itself within the deepest reaches of a person, it disappeared and made its home there, waiting for the time to strike and break its host, a parasite that could kill those of the faint-heart. It was not surprising when they all started to part ways, yet numb with what was heavily carried within each heart of this group, it would be a long time before they could heal, and thing might return back to normal, yet healing was still far off, especially in the two that had been there when he had passed, Cloud Strife, and Cid Highwind. The two of them were hit the hardest by the blow of their friend's death, no one had expected him to ever die, and yet one thing was remaining there, lingering dead in the back of their minds, what if he had been alive when they buried him…? If that was true, then they had murdered him by putting the man six feet under, but what was the most horrifying thing of all, was that that was right. They had buried the enigma gunman alive, he was within that coffin, in a comatose state, and he was barely breathing, but if he woke, ever, he would be dead, what irony it was… If only they knew.

But, unfortunately at that moment, he woke up. Vincent's eyes opened wide as he looked around in the darkness, he didn't know where he was, there was fear in his mind, a mind filled with three cackling demons who were perfectly aware of Valentine's situation, yet they offered no help to him, they just laughed and continued their little games of torturing the helpless gunman, the had nothing better to do, after all. The sniper's eyes darted around in the darkness, feeling the walls of wood around him he attempted to push on them to see if he could get free. But to no avail. He realized almost immediately that he was in a coffin, one extremely similar to that if the one he had been encased in during his thirty year sleep within the Shin-Ra Mansion. This was just like his nightmares, trapped alone within the confines of a box, but instead, this time he was underground. Why was he within this coffin, had he died and this is his endless eternity of death? Was it because of his sins that he had been cast here? There was confusion, but acceptance followed, he realized that there was no escape, that being buried alive was his final prison, ah, he was cast into his own private ell once more before he would return to the lifestream, at least he had somewhere to think before his last breath was taken, if that would ever come. There was surprising calm as he contemplated why he was here, perhaps they thought he was dead, and in their grief buried him, a nice funeral, a tombstone, and a eulogy to follow. A wry smile came to his lips at the thought of the last words the other would speak of him, in all, they would complain over his mysteriousness and how he always locked everything up inside, there would be tears, words of how they wished they knew him better, and probably a mention of his love for Lucrecia. It was funny, a little bit; his grave and dark humor was cutting in.

"So then, this is where I will die, how ironic." He commented aloud to himself, knowing that he must be insane to even think about starting a conversation with himself, but there was nothing better to do, his demons weren't the best at small-talk anyhow. They preferred to make long and boring speeches about either tormenting him, or poker, he preferred not to discuss either topic. But, before, with Chaos, there had been another topic he detested the most, 'which of Vincent's female companions is preferred'. That topic always caused him to frown, he didn't find any of them appealing, and Lucrecia was the only one for him…

Shaking that thought, he dwelled upon his life, of how it had began, and at this point, how it was ending. Thoughts OF his mother, who he had never met, yet, his father, Gilmore Valentine had talked of her often, with a sparkle of love in his eyes, and a faint smile on his lips as he spoke of how happy she had made him, and how lovely she had been during her life. Vincent had always blamed himself for his mother's death; it was because off his birth she had died in the first place… If he had not been conceived, his dear mother and father would've been happy… That guilt was even carried now, along with that for Lucrecia. He had forgiven himself for what pain had been caused, yet he still felt responsible for her loss of her son Sephiroth, he had been the one to help kill him, more than once he had been a factor in the process of helping Cloud reach his goal to remove Sephiroth from the Planet.

Pity, yes, it was a pity that these events had happened within his rather long life, or short, if you looked at it that his life had ended the day Hojo killed him, or if you looked at it as his life was ending now, but that was just on perspective of course.

"…The air's lessened… how much longer do I have?" He asked, curiosity at how many more breaths he had within the coffin before his final gasp of air would be drawn, and the sweet death would be taken. But he didn't wish to die without a poem to send him off; he felt a little poetic, even when death was knocking on his door. Closing his eyes, there was no difference between them being open or closed anyhow, it was just a little more entertaining to close them and think of what a thing he would spin before death claimed him.

At least the pain would end then.

His lips parted after a time, taking in a sharper breathe of air, at least asking the Planet one more thing, to let him finish what little dark-humored thing he had come up with on a whim:

"If I was ever a child

And the woman I loved a child

We would be happy together, within our world of naivety

But she and I are not children

Nor are we happy

But grownups, dwelling in separate misery

Still, the wheels of life still turn

And life begins anew

Each day brings back the memories

Of times with happier things

Yet those days are gone

Like each birdsong

And we're here till the very end

Pity, yes that it is

That we may suffer once more

And dwell within our lives

That seems not to exist at all

I complain one thing and only that

My last image is the darkness

And not the light I once held

The angel of my vision, Lucrecia

Is not in my eyes to behold."

There was a grin of mirth upon his features as he opened his hues to the 'ceiling' as it were, the air was tight, and his breath short…

And there was light, nothing more.


	5. Burning Cold

**Wounded**

_**Chapter Five:**_

**Burning Cold **

Do not avenge this cursed soul

One that is not to exist

I am not worth those tears of yours

Even if I am once more alive

Please, let me run away from you

To hide within the shadows of shame

I cannot always be with all of you

For one day you will all go away

Forever I will live it seems

Fate, this damn Planet wishes for me to live

Even if I cannot help what it wishes

I cannot stand the pain of loosing you

Not the only ones who make this life worth it

Taking away the pain

Making it be one bearable second

Out of this torturous life

Thank you for everything

I cannot let my gratitude satisfy

If I could give my life to save you all

I would do it a thousand times

So let me be within my shadows

To stay there for a long time

But all I can say is I love you

No matter what else in this life happens

I need you more

Than ever before.

* * *

Three months had passed since the death of the 'beloved' Vincent Valentine. There was still uncertainty within them about who was responsible for the injuries upon the gunman's body that had lead to his death. Cloud, out of his rage, had disappeared hunting down the men that had done it, no matter what the cost he was going to get revenge. There was no news of leads, no information on where the bastards were, and where they were located. One day Cloud did return, just to rest himself for a time, Tifa's pleadings convinced him to return and relax before he began the hung anew. He reluctantly consented, making his way to his room the moment he had entered the bar, placing a small sack of his belongings onto a table, while he laid upon his bed, thoughts racing through his head about the guilt of what had ended Valentine's life.

However, a glint caught his eyes, within the corner, near the table, something metallic was shining, he stood, and soon walking to tug at what he found was a chain, trapped there. His brows knitted together in curiosity as he lifted up the chain, soon tugging out the full thing itself. A gasp of surprise came to his lips; it was Vincent's necklace, the one he had gotten from his father. Another wave of grief came to his form, it was his fault Vincent had died, and now he had stolen a precious memento from him! He felt like such a horrid person, one not worthy of calling the man his friend.

A sudden burst of speed came to his form, he jumped upon Fenrir as he raced off to the gunman's grave, flying past so many over and over he had to hurry until finally he parked himself beside the grave, attempting not to disturb the flowers that were there, he jumped off of his bike and his gloves hands were dug into the dirt, quickly as he could through the tears that clouded his vision, causing his sight to be distorted. Surprisingly enough, they had only buried the coffin perhaps maybe six inches under, and it only took the swordsman just an hour to pull the coffin onto the level ground above the hole.

Tears within his eyes as he finally opened the coffin to see what was inside, it was Vincent himself, moved from the position they had buried him in, and looking… deader than before. Oddly enough, it was as if something such as that was to be impossible, but it was not, he was…

He at least had been alive, and pulling off a glove with his teeth, desperate to see the other alive he placed his now bare hand upon the flesh of the other's face, but there was a shock to him—he was warm, Vincent was warm, he… he hadn't been dead for long!

With hope bursting within his heart, tears within his eyes of pain and sorrow, not wanting to let one loved to remain dead. He had to bring him to life; there was no doubt within him that he wished to save him, no matter the cost that came of this, even if he died himself this day. Hands placed upon the chest of the other he continued to push upon where his heart should be, trying to make him breathe, live, to have his lungs, or whatever was in place there—since Hojo after all had been the one to cut open the man, and torture, tear, mutilating his body. Was Vincent going to live, did he even need to breathe to survive? How was—how was he just gone, how so recently perished? Yet he leaned, parting the lips of the other, it was but a kiss as he tried to breathe life once more into Valentine.

Crimson hues looking confused, shocked, and quite disgusted to wake up from such the eternal sleep of death as this was, to have and see that there was Cloud kissing him, causing him to mentally wretch of course he pushed Cloud away with what feeble strength he still possessed, but it wasn't that much after all, he was quite exhausted. Had he actually died?

There was joy within his teary blue eyes as he looked down at Vincent, he had been pushed away only for a moment before he was picking up the lighter form of the gunman within his arm. Now hugging the eternal damnation out of the dark and pale man, murmuring words of apologies, sadness, and joy of that the other was alive. A heavenly rapturous expression of the heart that was impossible to contain within the human shell, his mortal husk.

"V…Vincent… I am sorry, I am sorry, we… we … You were dead; we thought you were dead… But—you're alive, we have to get revenge, they kille—injured and hurt you, I will kill them!" He sobbed all over the other's crimson cloak, causing the weak gunman to gently struggle from the crushing grip of the blonde-haired person.

When he finally realized that Vincent was loosing air due to his rather emotional outburst, he let go, looking at the other with a soft smile on his lips, so happy to see the weakened one alive, though the thought finally hit him that the other was still weak and his injures still existed, internal one at least. On the other hand, maybe there were no wounds at all, but the other just wanted to let go, he had never been the touchy feely type nor had he, but right now was a special occasion. He did not want it to change, but he was starting to ramble within his head, and Vincent was about to collapse.

Cloud picked up the other within his arms, he could see the bloodied glare of protest, but the other actually did not say a word to him. He was quite surprised about it, that the other did not just swipe him with his claw and tell him to stop it, yet he was going to be as gentle as he could with the lanky and skinny gunman. It was awkward holding him, with his limbs sticking out in many directions; it became a bit difficult to maneuver the other around as he sat on Fenrir, putting the other before him, wrapping an arm securely around the waist of the almost limp man before revving the engine and rushing off to Seventh Heaven.

* * *

What a welcoming they had, from Tifa first fainting from shock of having Vincent there, who didn't speak, just his eyes darted around, a pinkish tinge on his cheeks from the other being there. The swordsman lugged the blushing man, or at least it was a blush, but with Vincent, it could be rage that they could not discern from blushing since they had never seen him blush before. He was placed in bed, covered, and disrobed again, leaving him in only his boxers, but this time he wasn't wrapped in bandages, with fully healed wounds, and just a few angry scars of a pinkish tinge to remind them all of what had happened. Once more, the silent gunman did not complain.

Except this time, he was conscious and aware enough to complain about what was happening to him and how he was being treated. With Cloud and Tifa hovering over him, it seemed that he did not mind. Especially that Marlene was sitting there with him most of the many days that happened later on, she liked to be near the silent gunman and it seemed he enjoyed her company. The little girl could even bring a small and attempting to be restrained smile from the gunman, Cloud and Tifa had to let her see him since she was a good amount of emotional therapy for him. However, he did complain once to Cloud, saying that he did not like being naked under the covers. Strife only snickered and looked at Vincent saying 'Well, at least we didn't take your boxers'. That shut him up.

When they informed everyone that Vincent was alive, and getting better, there was so much relief after the initial shock, demands of the truth, and questions, along with them planning to visit as soon as they could. Even Reeve had taken time off his busy schedule to come and see Vincent. Even if it took him a week to get there after canceling his meeting and such, it was a teary reunion for the person seeing Vincent each time they came. However, what everyone noticed was that Vincent barely moved…

But why? Cloud went to Vincent's room one night, perhaps about a month from when he risen from the grave, or more so pulled out and kissed back to life, no one knew that part. The would-be SOLIDER sat down beside him, looking serious, and a bit confident, while on the other hand, the sniper was looking… a little lost, almost like he was missing a piece of himself.

"Why can't you move Vincent?" He asked, not trying to be rude, but he was curious on why the other was immobile.

"…I cannot… move…" What surprised Cloud the most was how scared and frightened he was, as if there was a fear that he was never… Wait.

"You… can't? Have you tried?"

"Yes." He sounded so small.

"Is it something to do with what Hojo did?"

"No."

"Then… what is it?"

"…My… spine was broken… during the… the attack… I cannot move my body…" There was more fear, more sorrow within him. "I am an invalid."

For a moment, Cloud was silent. "You're not Vincent, even if you can't move, you're still you, and besides… Now I guess we can keep you in one place, huh?" There was a crooked smile on his lips, trying to make the situation just a little lighter than it was, trying to make the former Turk lighten up.

But it only made him cry.

For the first time in the many years they had known one another, Vincent was crying, the gunman was shedding clear crystal tears, wet droplets of sorrow that streaked down his pale visage, showing the pain he felt deep within his heart, the never-ending ache of knowing that now instead of being a monster, he was completely useless, helpless, just like how he had been so many years ago when he was Hojo's plaything. Cloud could not fathom what the other was feeling, how hopeless and upset the other one was. All he could do was gather the broken man within his arms and hug him, stroking his back that could not feel his touch, and tell him that everything was going to be all right. But it wasn't going to be alright, Vincent could not move, so how could they help him? There was no way to fix a broken spine, if there was, well; it would take money, more money than they had. It would be costly, and they would need help, but who would be willing?

Yet the gunman just sobbed within his arms, having no hope to move again, how could he exist like this? As such a complete failure of a person, of a monster, he would rather be a monster than someone that was useless, hell, he would rather be dead.

"Do not tell anyone." Vincent said harshly between his sobs.

Cloud could only nod.

* * *

However, Tifa came in a few hours after the ex-turk had calmed down; claiming that Vincent needed a bath and Cloud was to give him one. First off, the swordsman was beyond flustered at the very thought of bathing Vincent, and the gunman was trying the mentally kill himself at this situation, of all the humiliating things he had been put through during his life, this was probably the worst scenario that had happened, and secretly, both of them plotted revenge against the smiling woman.

Sighing, Cloud lifted the form of the gunman from the bed, and went into the bathroom, setting the scantily clad form on the closed toilet for a moment, while sitting on the tub's edge and turning on the water, plugging the drain, he looked at the gunman with an almost apologetic look.

"You need to be clean?" Cloud offered the words to help the situation out, but with the look he received for his words, he doubted that there was a single thing that was going to help.

Within a matter of time, the tub filled, and Cloud turned back to the gunman, who closed his eyes to block out whatever was going to conspire from now until the horrible events were over. The blonde grabbed the gunman's little bit of clothing and removed it, trying not to look at the man's… However, he did get a glance, which his eyes went back to where it was and there WAS nothing there. His eyes widened in realization, shock, and looked at the missing organ.

Vincent's crimson hues flared open, he himself forgetting just for a little bit of time that he was missing a vital part of his manly anatomy and looked away, ashamed and embarrassed at his state. He did not speak for a moment, sighing softly as the other stared, he could not move so of course he was stuck as the other gaped.

"…Vincent… you're…"

"Hojo."

"You mean… HE did this to you? He… R.."

"Yes."

Cloud looked at Vincent with such pity in his eyes, how cruel Hojo was, how dare he take such a precious part of Vincent away from him, he could never have children, never have the joy of a wife or family, no wonder he was always so shy, and looked so feminine, he was missing so many things… He could only feel such undying pity within his heart at what had happened to the other. A soft sight came to his lips for a few seconds before he picked up the form of the other and set it in the tub. Not speaking, Cloud looked at Vincent, some understanding was forming, on why Vincent was the way he was, so secretive, so shy and standoffish at times, it was because he was scared, that he was different from the rest of them in so many ways. No wonder Vincent never liked to open up to them, the gunman was scared of their reaction, of rejection…

"Why did he do it, Vince?" He asked, washing the other's body, unlike his own, there was no hair anywhere, not even little curls where the missing part was, he was… hairless on his body, only his head and eyebrows… Almost like a perfect doll… Cloud lifted limbs of the other's form, washing with soap at what was on his pale skin; even if the other could not feel it, he was gentle.

"I slept with Lucrecia." He said simply. "She and I had an affair, without my knowledge that she was married to Hojo, not only that, but I put my curious eyes on things that I was not supposed to know about. Standing in his way during the experiments, I tried to save her, and this was the price I paid for my actions…"

A little shocked to hear that part of the story, he moved and washed the soap from the other's form, gathering shampoo within the hands, starting to lather the long ebony locks of silken hair that was upon the other's head. "Do you… regret it?"

"No." His voice was soft, his crimson hues closed, Vincent observed that the pale porcelain face was etched of pain… And blood.

Continuing to wash the other, he smiled a little when he finished, washing the other's hair completely, draining the water, and pulling the other in a towel, which he had the put the limp form upon his lap, but it was a bit fun, he had to admit, to see the annoyed expression that played upon his face.

More than once or twice, he had to position and repositions the other's form to get him fully dried off; making sure that every single part of him was dry. Then he retrieved the clothing Tifa left out and dressed him in it, he was surprised that the gunman did not complain much, except for a reddening of the cheeks when he was getting underwear put on. Cloud just figured he felt vulnerable or something, he actually was not too sure.

Finally, the other laid down in the bed of before, covered, within a relaxed position to make it seem like he could move, but only Cloud was the one that knew he was immobile. The problem they now faced was both finding out who was the one that did this to Vincent, and how they were going to make him able to move again, this was done on purpose, perhaps by a professional, but there were very few who knew who Vincent was, and what he actually looked like. Pondering upon this, the blonde started to get a major migraine.

"…Shinra…" It came to him, the swordsman smiled a little at his own genius and patted Vincent in a friendly way upon the head, noticing the gunman's displeasure, for the moment he stopped his actions. "…I'll see Rufus… And… Maybe he can help, what do you think?"

Vincent closed his eyes for a moment, thinking, then the crimson orbs opened to gaze deep into the sea-orbs of the other. "Perhaps… Or maybe they were the ones that plotted this, I am uncertain."

Nodding his head, Cloud stood and left, but before he made it out the door he turned back looking at Vincent.

"I'll make this right."

* * *

**Charan-Amaya**: Oh my gosh it has been so long I've been so busy with so many things I am so so so sorry! Yes, I did decide to make another chapter after all, I shouldn't have and this is kinda not where I wanted to go but I kinda like it and it is going where I want to go but... Yeah, tired and awake at the same time.

**Vincent**: Calm down... BITCH.

**Charan-Amaya**: Hey! At least you got LAID by Lucrecia

**Vincent**: I am NOT GAY WITH CLOUD EW!

**Charan-Amaya**: Of course you're not gay! Not with Cloud, but what H--

**Vincent**: ...Review... Murder her...

**Charan-Amaya**: Hee hee.


	6. Pain

**Wounded**

_**Chapter Six:**_

**Pain**

Pain, there's been enough

Around here without your love

I'm staying still, trapped in a body

That can never move again

Pain, I've had enough

But its what I deserve

After the sins I've caused

And the lives I've caused to leave this world

I stay in such agony

Forever, ever... Ever...

Until I can't speak anymore.

"Rufus." Cloud's voice called as he entered the little broken building in which the President of Shin-Ra currently resided, or at least, he prayed the man still occupied this place, or he was completely and totally screwed. He was wondered where the man was until a finger tapped his shoulder, jumping in utter shock and surprise, he turned around to face the icy blue hues of the other blonde man, curious as he looked at him, tilting his head slightly. "Um, hi?" He greeted, a little too nicely for him, yet he needed this favor from Rufus, no matter the cost, he had to help Vincent, it was as if this was all his fault that this happened...

"Yes, Strife?" The other man raised a brow, wondering why the hell the other was there, invading his private quarters of buisness, and how he got past his turks that were supposed to be on guard duty, yet it was Reno and Rude, no doubt they went to the bar for a few drinks... Or something idiotic of the sort.

"Its about... a friend of mine... His spine is broken and I need your help, please, I'll do anything." As the President heard such a plea, he rose an eyebrow in question as he wondered why the man was so desperate to help his comrade, he was considering what he would have the other to do for him to get the supposed friend to walk again. "Hm... Perhaps..." He was pondering on the idea that Tseng had given him to ask Vincent to once more take up the Turk occupation. After the end the man suffered, it would take some pursuasion before it could happen, but, if he had Strife's help...

"The codition is that you will convince Mr. Valentine to once more become a Turk..." "Rufus, he's the one injured." "It works out perfectly, bring him here."

* * *

Closing his hues for a moment, Vincent wondered what the other man was to do, he had promised something, promised to... to be... the save him, to fix everything. It hadn't been Cloud's fault, even he knew such a thing, so why did the other take such horrid responcibillity and guilt for something he had no control over? It made no sense to him, nothing, nothing at all. How could this be, how? It was confusion that raged his mind and claimed his soul as the voices whispered and spoke their smooth words, asking him if he wished to die and disappear forever. In truth, at this time, he honestly did wish to disappear, there was nothing better than that to happen. 

Yet, his musings were interrupted as Cloud entered the room at such a percise moment, grinning a little in his mind, Vincent wondered why these things happened.

Though, Cloud did not speak to him, no words uttered from his lips as he was lifted into the strong arms of the blonde. Curious to what was to happen, he moved, shifting uncomfortably, shaking mentally with some sort of fear of being put down like an animal. What was this from... When had he been carried so useless...?

Hojo...

Cloud did not see the trouble with his friend as he walked this time, he knew a shorter route to the President's residence, so, of course he took such a path, gently as he could, holding Vincent in his arms. Even if the man did not say a word, he felt as if the other was scared, frightened of something, yet he wasn't sure what it was, what this fear was... Maybe a thing from the past, something that was done to him? He wouldn't doubt it, yet, he didn't remember what Hojo had done to him.

_Am I doing the right thing, I'm taking Vincent right back to Shin-Ra, is that something he wants? I don't know, but... I feel like its my fault he's hurt so badly, it is my fault, huh... I... I have to get him to walk again, but, he'll have to be a Turk. Does he want that?_

Deciding it was now or never, "Vincent, do you want to be a Turk?"

"Yes." That was all he needed to know, and once more set off towards the dear Shin-Ra place.

* * *

Rufus was curious to how this was to play out, what with his deal with Strife, to get Valentine to once more put on the suit and work as the sharp-toothed dogs of Shin-Ra that had been so feared throughout the world, ah, how the memories of a time as such, when there were the full thirteen and not the four he had now. His musings caused him to be distracted from the sounds of a motorbike approaching the premisis, unfortunately for him, that meant the company that he was expecting was near, and he had to deal with them. 

Why didn't he have a secretary to take care of these things again? And once more he was answered, he couldn't afford to have the public know of the existance of him, they still believed him dead, and until he was able to have the funds, or at least having the WRO proclaiming he was now helping the Planet, nothing would let the words leak that he and his Turks had survived.

Standing, ignoring the slight pain that remained within his leg, having never fully healed from the attack from that damnable WEAPON, he moved to stand in front of his desk as the door was kicked upon.

Slight amusement came at the sight of Cloud, the spikey blonde haired man, carrying a limp, almost rag doll-like form of a feared man, Vincent Valentine. Looking at the broken form, it was an amazement that he had once been such a feared Turk, now pale, long haired, and dead looking, from the tan and well-trimmed form of the man he had once been so long ago, even before his own time. Rufus mused mentally to himself for a time before he motioned for Cloud to set the man down on a chair.

"Alright then... Shall we proceed?" A blonde brow quirked towards the other male. Only a nod was given.

A snap was all it took for Tseng and Rude to rush out, taking the red-hued man within their arms to carry him into a place of surgery. Ah, how the silence and fear that radiated off of Cloud caused a slight smirk upon the pale-man's face. "Calm down, Cloud, once the surgery is finished, and he has healed... All will be well."

Motioning for Cloud to sit, Rufus took a few steps before he sat himself, looking once more at his former foe.

"I know that, Rufus. Why do you want him as a Turk?" He asked, hesitant to know the answer.

"In his time, he was one of the best, Cloud. With the shortage of number in the past five or so years, I have decided to finally start replenishing the numbers. With Verd within his grave, and Tseng within his place. I believe it would be fitting to have a senior Turk that has the experiance of one as old as Mr. Valentine."

"What are you going to do to him?"

"What are you referring to?"

"Are you going to make him into your dog? Hasn't he suffered enough Rufus, you're smart, figure it out. With his history and what he's been through, give him a break." Cloud gripped his fingers upon the chair, attempting not to feel the pain that was building in his chest.

"He won't be in any harm, all I need is assistance to once more rebuild Shin-Ra, alongside the WRO to help rebuild the Planet. An energy company reborn that does not use Mako, but it uses coal and oil. Perhpas I should speak with Mr. Wallace and Mr. Tuesti upon such things." The President mused to himself, glancing at the other.

"And what about those that did this to him?"

"They will be found and terminated."

"I want to do it myself."

* * *

After he had been taken away, left within a strange metal room, much like a cell in Vincent's opinion, he lay there. Slowly he was surrounded by so many objects and people that wore colors of an ugly green, he wondered if this was the best idea. Something entered his arm, he saw, a mask over his mouth... Everything faded to black. 

_A woman's voice floated through the place, the sound of sweet singing that seemed to be from a memory of long ago. "Sweet baby, dearie, please stay safe and warm..."_

_Pausing for a moment, Vincent's eyes scanned the oddity of flowers that made the ground of the place, nothing more than the feild and the sky was around him, such a blue sky... No clouds, nothing marring the sight before him._

_Turning to the voice, a woman stood there, a grin upon her lips, a shorter woman, with skin of a brownish hue, eyes of glistening chocolate that sparkled with happiness upon looking into Vincnet's own crimson orbs. Her form was in a slim little kimono, causing her to look rather fancy as she moved closer, waves of blackish hued hair swinging around her, swaying in the wind. Her features turned teary, young and unmangled from time it seemed, but old eyes. "Vincent, my sweet baby..." Whispered the woman as a hand placed itself upon his cheek, carressing his flesh._

_"I'm glad you'll be better soon sweetie... I'm so proud of you." She spoke, tears slipping down her cheeks. "I'm sorry I died before I could hold you in my arms, darling. It can't be helped when the Planet takes us, can it..." She giggled a little, wrapping her arms around his thin frame._

_"Your father's around here somewhere, but you need to go. Next time we'll see you, alright?"_

Gasping, he sat up completely with pain and agony as he felt this shock of something flow through him, with a sqeak of pain he looked around, looks of awe from eyes of people around him. "D...damn..." He swore softly, slowly lowering himself down, feeling pain.

"We almost lost you there..." The surgeon, he assumed, spoke, sighing with relief. "After we finished the surgery, you just... died..."

Nodding his head, he closed his eyes, but the doctor continued. "It was as if you had some sort of poison in you... But luckily you're alive, consider yourself lucky."

Not bothering to hear the rest, Vincent succumbed to the call of sleep, happy to attend...

* * *

Coming out of the room, the surgeon smiled slightly at the two men sitting, glaring what seemed to be daggers of hate and cotempt at one another. "The surgery was successful, and he will be alright." The man blinked for a moment, scooting further towards the door. "You may see him now if you like, I believe he'll be concious quite soon. 

Standing, the two blondes walked into the room, both seeming to have an air of intensity that was not allowed to be seen when they approached the man. Who, in fact, was busy lingering in his mind about the events that had transpiered. Were they infact real, or was it something or pure fantasy that his mind had come up with to comfort him in his near-death experiance? Besides, he was not that special to see such important people to him, a monster... a creature of evil. Or, well, what was he now anyways? A WEAPON? A demon? An experiment? What...

Everything was interrupted by the icy feeling that was brought by Rufus and Cloud entering the room, even between him and Hojo it had been warmer, at least, he thought. His crimson hues gazed to the two of them, their glares not meant for him, yet for each other, causing a little bit of relief to come to him. Of course nothing lasted long as the two sat close.

"...You're alive..." He pondered for a moment, closing his eyes with relief. "I'm so sorry Vincent."

There wasn't another word spoken by the gunman, his eyes had turned to the ceiling, gazing at the many tiles, as if he wanted to blend into them, disappear from this situation, he didn't care why or how anything else of the sort was done. He just wanted to go away, to disappear from this place, to get away from them. Why were they still here? There was shame within him, how pathetic and weak he was. Lying here, but he was upon his back, why? Oh, he could heal fast... that was it... Mentally rolling his eyes, he closed them for a moment, holding back the threatening to spill shame.

"...Valentine, for this, you are to rejoin the Turks, becoming once more a leader among the people. You are to report to... No, I believe you will take your position as the leader of the Turks, it is what you would've been, is it not?" A smirk crossed Rufus's face, he couldn't help but feel some sort of victory from this. Wasn't it true that he was now the one that ordered Valentine himself around? The WEAPON Chaos was now also under his control, and... ...What was he to do with such control? Have him repair the world? Possibly...

* * *

Life is a system of living and dying, the lifestream dictates how the world goes, what happens, and who becomes what. Some, are strong enough to survive long enough to see the rest of those they love fade away, and one maiden, an Ancient, is the most powerful, now the voice of the Planet, who for a time shall be dormant. This woman, Aeris, watches over those below, a smile upon her lips, or a frown, she wishes that those she loved in life to forever be safe and cared for. At such things that continue happen, she does not want anything horrible to befall the people, yet it does happen. It is part of the continuous cycle.

Perhaps that is what the process is, suffering?

"Vincent... ...Perhaps... I wish I could help you." A smile pressed to her lips, relieved to see those below doing decently. "At least Rufus has... Changed, for the better." A giggle now passed, and a man came, laying a hand upon her shoulder.

"Don't worry, Cloud's taking care of him." Another grin.

"Yes, we should just watch, and... I hope that they can stop it."

A frown was upon the other's face. "But... What if... Can we help them?"

"Of course, but... Its limited."

"I know... I wish we could go back..."

"Maybe."

* * *

They left him to dress, to be ready, Tseng waited outside the door upon Rufus's orders, when Vincent attempted to go, he was to stop him, to make sure the one did not leave, as he was famous for. A wry smile passed upon his lips, what was to transpire was something that would benifit even him. Perhaps, perhaps... He did owe Vincent his own life, as did Elena. The gang of Kadaj, the remnants, they had almost... mudered... Ah, a shudder ran down the spine at the thought of death to spawns of Sephiroth!

"...I know you're out there." Even Tseng was startled at such words coming, Vincent opened the door, gesturing for the other to enter.

"Valentine, I was--"

"I know."

"Do you wish to know of who injured you?"

"...Yes."

"The blade that caused your injuries was the one Sephiroth wielded, Masamune."

* * *

**CA**: I really am evil to do this to you all, but, this is the first chappie in a few months, no? I am trying to get more things up, CIAB will soon have another chapter, and hopefully I'll get somethign DMC up. Along with another chapter of TWFTP! I know you're all looking forward to it, don't worried, I am too.

So now, let me just say this: I PWN.


	7. Missing Parts

**Wounded**

**_Missing Parts _**

**_

* * *

_**

**_Missing pieces of the puzzle_**

**_How can it be put together?_**

**_Wondering on many things_**

**_The special little songs you sing_**

**_And in the worry of betrayal_**

**_There is something haunting of that word_**

**_And then to be rejected once again_**

**_Is something the heart cannot take?_**

**_Missing it is, it does not fit_**

**_A part is missing_**

**_That is all that it is_**

**_But does it wish to be found_**

**_Do you want to find it?_**

**_There is no certainty to it_**

**_Now is there?_**

**_One more, perhaps more_**

**_And the puzzle will be complete_**

**_Once it is finished_**

**_There will be death_**

**_And a soul at peace. _**

**_

* * *

_**

There was shock, to say the least to Vincent's system at the words Masamune, to that being the sword used upon him… No wonder he had been hurt so gravely. It made sense, yet only to a tiny degree of what the entire thing was. He couldn't comprehend who would do this and for what reasons would be behind it. It was almost a cruel trick at the thought that Sephiroth would actually be living. That was just not possible, not after these years… And what time the man had been gone. There was no vessel at the moment known for him to control, nor was there a single sighting of a silver haired man in a long black trench coat.

Perhaps the truth behind it all was the missing links between the actually injuries and his current occupation as a Turk.

Tseng checked the outfit of the other, and not approving of the garb he had worn before, he gestured to the other to return to the room and to wear the suit that was upon his bed. Relenting to the suit of his occupation, he glided in and glanced upon the black suit. There it was, including the Shin-Ra armband… He shuddered mentally at the memories the suit brought to him, even if they were equally divided between both the good and the bad, he could not forget that it was the suit of the Turks that brought him into the death he had had. And then it led him to the hell that he pondered would ever end. Was that aloud for him to have peace?

Sitting upon the bed, he attempted to struggle the outfit on. His most difficult process was getting the sleeve on through the claw, which ended up in shredding the damn thing anyhow. Which, he rolled the sleeve to a point where no damage was noticeable. And boots removed, leather shoes and new glove on. Cerberus of course placed loyally at his side, and he was quite content, for the moment. A familiarity took over as he placed upon him the typical steel-reinforced plating in the jacket. Along with the Shin-Ra logo belt, and of course, the perfect part to add to the outfit, the tie, it all fell back into place, even if a different color. Smiling a little to himself, he placed himself in front of the mirror, looking at this drastically changed appearance. The headband and claw were in place, but otherwise… He was the man he had been.

Tseng, impatient as could be, he was missing a part of something… 'special' at the moment, he burst into Vincent's room, and nodded a little, until he saw the claw and the headband.

"Shin-Ra protocol." He stated.

Vincent of course refused. "I outrank you."

Tseng blinked at those words, "You are mistaken, Valentine."

"As rejoining, from my previous position, I outrank you. Both in seniority and in skills."

This caused the slightest of twitches to come from the corner of the man's eye, yet he seemed to ignore the comment. "Fine." Not wishing to argue, he left, glancing over his shoulder as he did so. "You are expected in the President's office."

And, silently as any Turk, he was gone into the air.

Almost mechanically, Vincent left the room, walking in a brisk pace, looking around for the office of his new boss, there was some odd feeling of familiarity, in the anticipation, and of course the curiosity. Yet professionalism kept him calm, as it always.

Cloud stood in his way, the look he had was more than Sephiroth's own. It was a look that Death would give if Death was a woman and suffered from a severe PMS, standing for Pissed-off Menstruating, Shutyourmouthidiot. Which, the last part was the part that most of the male species tended to ignore. Though, in his experience, Vincent was well aware that the look he was getting was what he wanted to avoid.

There was anger. Even if they had… become friendly with the new leaf of Shin-Ra, it was just a sick reminder that Vincent had once been a Turk. That and how they all knew what Shin-Ra had done to him. What Hojo did to him, didn't the suit give him memories? Didn't the damn suit cause him to feel that pain? Even Cloud had to change outfits to stop himself from always remember the past, from the old SOLIDERS uniform, to the one he now wore. Almost a hate for what Rufus… no, it was a loathing, a sense of abhorring towards the male. He couldn't help but wonder, wonder, wonder, and he realized. Rufus needed Vincent for something, that something… he wouldn't be able to know…

"Vincent." The man stopped, looking at him with a blank look, the cold one he always wore. Cloud didn't like seeing that from his friend. It caused a deep stirring of anger.

"Yes?"

A sadness filled Cloud eyes as he looked at the other man, grasping him by the wrist, since he couldn't truly reach his shoulder, the man was too tall. Vincent was frozen, Cloud knew that. No one could resist the secret weapon of Cloud's teary blue eyes. He hadn't used these since he wanted some of Tifa's cookies. He could tell the other male faltered completely, even if he was a male, no one could resist the boyish charm.

"Why are you doing this, Vincent? You don't want this, I know you better than that? Why?"

"…I owe… them."

"And they owe us even more! We should just call it even, Vincent. Please, you're still in no condition for this work, you know what happened last time you were in the Turks!"

Vincent's silence gave Cloud the cue that he knew he was right. Even if Vincent was 'over' it, the truth was, after something like that, you're scarred for life. Not even Cloud was idiotic enough to ignore that.

"The sword was Sephiroth's." Pupils dilated in Cloud's blue hues, a fear and sense of dread taking over him completely as he remembered that man, the man of his deepest nightmares, Sephiroth. He had been controlled by that man on more than one occasion; along with the obvious fighting to save the world and that the man was a crazed killer that murdered Aerith in cold blood, among other things…

"His…? Haven't we sent him to the grave enough? Shouldn't he be gone by now?" Cloud's voice was a soft whisper as his lovely blue hues glanced to the floor, thoughts spinning within his head as he pondered upon this, why was it that the damn Planet had to continue this battle? Twice he—no, thrice he had killed Sephiroth, but now, once more he knew there might be a battle to come.

"Others can hold the Masamune, it is not necessarily Sephiroth, but it is always a possibility."

"…Damn."

"I believe the connection… Possibly the reason he continues to come back is the presence of Jenova cells on the Planet, like the ones within you, or… Maybe it is you, Cloud?"

A curious gaze cast upon Vincent, Cloud didn't understand this for the moment, perhaps the blonde factor was playing a role within this as the conclusion slowly came. "You mean… He'll continue… Until I die?"

Vincent only nodded.

"But… then…" And all went dark for Cloud.

The first thing that was seen, was the concerned crimson hues that Vincent help, he realized he was on the ground, and quickly sat up, looking around. Within the small bed, covered with white sheets. He looked at saw that Rufus and his Turks were positioned around, looking at him. Reno's eyes perked up, and he grinned.

"Yo, for a moment we thought you had a coma… Damn Cloud…yo…"

Rufus rolled his eyes at the idiocy that was Reno, and turned away for a moment, closing his eyes, temples rubbed within the frustration that he felt. There was a sad point that only a few Turks remained, and that one of them had to be a complete idiot, damn Reno.

A swift hit upon the head was distracted to Reno by Tseng as a perfectly fitting reaction to the idiocy that was distributed by the drunken red-head that could of course give Cid a run for his money in drinking. This was quite the impressive feat. Though, the slum-raised man shrugged the hit off, worse had been done to him, and a few of those things had been given to him by Cloud anyways.

"I'm fine."

A frown was given to him by three males and a female, ranking the three's femininity to a higher rate than it had before, unfortunate for this, isn't it? Rufus walked forward and peered down at Cloud, who was two years his younger, and smirked. "No, you will be here for the night, I doubt Miss Lockhart would let me live if I let you return to her in this condition. I would prefer not to have her restrained for attempting to take my life."

Cloud scowled, glowered, and pouted at once.

"Nice girly face." And this time Cloud threw a pillow that was within his reach and hit Reno on the head, who just chuckled. "See, you are a girl, yo." A glare again was administered.

"Cloud, it would be best." Vincent's sound voice stopped the argument, for now. Yet, still the vengeful pouting continued on Cloud's part, but that was ignored as the Turks quickly slid out of the room to either go drink (Reno), watch the drunk (Rude), do paperwork (Tseng), and of course, help with the paperwork (Elena). Rufus stayed behind, to make sure that the idiot didn't do a single thing to cause harm to himself for fear of the wrath of fists that Tifa possessed. He had seen her bitch-slap Scarlet, and even if it was a nice show to see the cat fight, he did not want to feel her fists. In that way at least.

"Valentine… I never said I wanted you as a Turk once more, get dressed within that odd garb you usually adorn, that suit does not suit you." A scoff was uttered from the lips of Rufus Shinra, as Valentine quickly left.

A smile graced Cloud's lips as he looked at the other. "Thank you, Rufus." He spoke softly, laying back down, quite pleased that Vincent wasn't going back into the occupation that in a way, started this, over thirty years ago, wasn't it? "Thank you."

A scowl was now adorning Rufus's face, instead of the chocobo-head's. "I did not do it for you, to have another idiot upon my staff would not be a wise decision on my part, and I already have Reno."

Inside eyelids, Cloud rolled his eyes at the petty excuse Rufus threw out. Deciding it was best for him to ignore the stuck-up man; he decided to go to sleep, at least for now.

* * *

Within the late night, the two Turks, Reno and Rude stumbled, or at least one stumbled. Rude was only slightly tipsy, which barely affected him except for a slight slur of his speech. The redhead on the other hand was ass-faced drunk beyond any coherence of speech that no normal person could understand, which meant Rude completely understood what he said, even through the drunkenness. Then again, understanding Reno even when he had no drink within him was something that was almost godly, as ability at least. Half-lugging the drunken Turk around, Rude kept his eyes peeled for any signs of threat, for there were some who know Turks by the suit, and were aware that they were still within operation… That meant that those who still had a deep hatred for Shin-Ra would most likely attack them, and an attack would mean the need for defense.

Yet, Rude was not ready for what came to him this time. There was usually a warning, a sign, a feeling. But this time nothing warned him as he felt the coldness of a blade brush his back. Frozen, he heard nothing, but knew that something was to happen.

Quickly he ducked down, dodging the blade as it swung as to cleave him in half. Reno, beyond all movement and reason, was brought with him. Rude cursed as this was absolutely the worst time to be fighting when he had to save Reno's hide as well as his own. He heard the sword swing once more, and rolled out of the way as it clanged to the ground. Another curse uttered from his lips as his precious sunglasses fell off.

"Reno, it would be nice if you were sober." He spoke bitterly as he stood the redhead in his arms as he moved forward launching himself, but the glint of a silver blade blocked his way. Falling to the ground, he laid flat as he saw the menacing flash of silver above him. His legs rose up, feet clamping on either side of the blade before it could bear down and nicely slice him in two.

With the light drunk on his body, it was impairing his movements, he could not leave his partner to die, and that would be heartless. And otherwise, who else would be humorous in even the worst of situations, like almost drowning to death while fighting off rather hungry sharks, even if that was Reno's fault in the first place. This time, it was also his fault. Grunting in exhaustion as the strength itself faded from him, he closed his eyes and attempted to recharge his form, failing, he opened again, with one push throwing the blade as far as possible, grasping the lazy ass and running with a burst of 'oh shit'.

Though, after about a minute of running in the 'oh shit' manner, he finally realized that… the blade, everything was gone. As if nothing had happened at all. Confused beyond all reason, Rude glanced around wondering what had just happened and if he was going completely insane. Most likely he was becoming insane, after being partnered with Reno for so long, it was bound to happen sooner or later.

Yet the question now, what had happened?

* * *

Cloud hated this bed confinement. There was nothing else to be said about it. It was ridiculous in his mind to have to deal with this. He hated lying down and having nothing better to do than to feel the ice—blue eyes that Rufus possessed, piercing him. That one-millionth sight escaped his lips, it was evening now, much later than he expected, and not that it was a surprise. He did not bother to sleep; he had too much energy for that. He preferred to be exhausted when he slept, which gave him a much better snooze time if that happened. Otherwise he woke up again and again and again just for the sake of having too much energy to burn.

Yet, the other man before him was already starting to nod off. Occasionally the man, when he thought Cloud wasn't looking, closed his eyes and tried to stop his head from lowering. Yet snapped open once he heard the creak of the bed, meaning Cloud shifted. It was funny games, in the swordsman's opinion, watching that happen repeatedly. Just because he wanted to mess with Rufus's head. It was just a nice little game he was playing…

"Rufus… Just go to sleep, you're obviously tired." Cloud stated this plainly, earning a cold glare from the other blonde man, which made a chuckle escape from the 'Ex-Soldier's' lips. It was quite humorous to see the elder man act like such a child.

"I will end up putting you to sleep quite soon, Cloud." The bitter frozen words flew out of Rufus's lips in only a few seconds, and he then stood, and left the room muttering about a 'damn chocobo headed idiot'. Yet, coming in at that moment was the familiar sight of Vincent Valentine within his red and black garb, splashed with metallic gold. Comforted to see the man without the Turk uniform on, Cloud leaned back into the bed and placed a small smile upon his lips. "I'll go to bed, Vin." He muttered, closing his river-blue eyes.

"If you wish." Vincent said, taking Rufus's former position, his eyes unblinkingly staring at his… friend.

The pair of Reno and Rude busted into the office of their boss, Rude holding the now snoring Reno within his arms, panting heavily as he dumped the dead weight upon the ground, looking wildly around for his boss. Lucky for them, the CEO wandered into the office at that moment to see the disheveled sight of his two Turks, one dead drunk, and the other… one of the living dead. Slightly amused at this sight, the young Shin-Ra pushed his exhaustion aside to hear the most likely humorous tale.

"…Sir…" Rude took a time to breathe, and then collapsed to the ground, exhausted. "Sir… We were attacked, a blade… silver, and it was long. It was just like the Masamune itself, we almost died at this. It did not help that he was passed out drunk. We barely escaped alive, sir."

And he froze, his eyes wide, pupils dilated as this news hit him. "Then… he returned, and… He is here for revenge." His fist rose up in the air and landed upon the desk, a loud thud resounding. "DAMNIT!" He swore loudly, "It's starting all over again."

* * *

A grin crossed the lips of a man as he stood, blade in hand. He grinned widely just for a moment, and finally, finally he stepped foot on a path of what he wished to do, and that was to kill. To slaughter them all. It was time for the revenge to start.

* * *

**Charan-Amaya**: Well, it's been forever since I actually did this, you know, updated. And now, well, I might have another chapter up soon. Some things I have updated quite a bit. Isn't it funny? Well, happy reading and I hope to update soon. The sequel will hopefully come out soon enough? I hope? Oh, and thanks for a little helpful reviewer, I would've never noticed that mistake and I went through and corrected this chapter. -Doesn't look at-

**_TO BE CONTINUED_**


End file.
